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L-UBRAR 

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MARY,   MARY   QUITE   CONTRARY 


CJjtlbren'g  $oofe 


EDITED  BY 

FRANCES  HODGSON  BURNETT 

ASSOCIATES: 

KATHARINE   NEWBOLD   BIRDSALL 
VIVIAN  BURNETT 


Illustrated  by 

FLORENCE  E.  NOSWORTHY,  HARRISON  CADY,  HAROLD  SICHEL, 

TONY  NELL,  CULMER  BARNES,  KATHARINE  GASSAWAY, 

A'LBERTINE  RANDALL  WHEELAN,  EMILY  DUNHAM, 

LAETITIA  HERR,   DOROTHY  FICKEN, 

ETHEL  N.  FARNSWORTH,  JOSEPHINE  BRUCE,  LOUIS  WAIN, 
AND  MANY  OTHERS 


NEW  YORK 

CUPPLES  &  LEON  COMPANY 


Copyright.  1907.  1908.  by 
HOLIDAY  PUBLISHING  COMPANY? 


Copyright.  1909.  by 
MOFFAT.  YARD  A  COMPANY 


Copyrifbt.  1915.  by 
CHARLES  W.  CLARK  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1915,  BY 
CUPPLES  &  LEON  COMPAWY 

All  Right  RtJtrveJ 


Printed  in  U.  S.  A. 


THE  CHILDREN'S  BOOK 


THE  BABY'S  SECRET 

OH !  stupid  grown-up  people  who  think  yourselves  10  wite, 
If  you  only  saw  what  /  see— saw  with  a  baby's  eyes  1 

You  think  the  baby's  laughing  at  the  sunshine  on  the  floor, 
But  the  baby  sees  the  Little  Folk  dancing  by  the  score. 

j(A  baby's  half  a  fairy  and  knows  all  fairy  tricks, 

But  he  has  quite  forgotten  by  the  time  he'»  half-past  iix.y 

You  wonder  why  I'm  smiling  when  the  dimples  come  and  go; 
I'm  listening  to  the  Little  Folk  singing  soft  and  low. 

They  climb  up  on  my  pillow  when  I'm  in  my  cradle  laid. 
When  a  Fairy  sees  a  baby  he's  not  a  bit  afraid. 

They  tell  me  tales  of  Fairyland  which  grown-ups  cannot  hear. 
They  make  me  coo  and  chuckle  when  they  whisper  in  my  ear. 

You  say, "  Just  watch  him  playing  with  his  funny  little  hands ! " 
But  I'm  playing  with  the  golden  toys  they  bring  from  Fairyland. 

You  queer,  big  grown-up  people  who  think  yourselves  so  wise, 
If  you  only  saw  what  /  »ee — saw  with  a  baby's  eyes  I 

FRANCES  HODGSON  BURNETT. 


By  ELIZABETH  C.  WEBB 


TCE  there  were  thirty-seven 
children  who  thought  they 
would  like  to  have  a  Fourth  of 
July  picnic.  The  reason  there 
were  only  thirty-seven  children  was  be- 
cause that  was  all  the  children  there  were 
in  Brookville,  where  this  story  happened. 
They  had  planned  to  go  down  to  Turtle's 
Wood  and  take  their  lunch,  and  in  the 
afternoon  they  were  going  to  set  off  fire- 
crackers and  torpedoes,  and  in  the  even- 
ing they  were  going  to  set  off  more  fire- 
crackers and  more  torpedoes,  and  fire- 
works besides.  For  weeks  they  had  been 
saving  up  their  allowances,  and  had 
brought  a  great  supply  of  nice,  noisy, 
bangy  things  for  the  Fourth. 

And  on  the  third,  all  those  thirty-seven 
children  packed  their  lunch  baskets  for  the 
picnic,  and  went  to  bed  so  excited  they 
could  scarcely  sleep. 

Bright  and  early  the  next  morning  Wil- 
lie Pepper — he  was  one  of  the  thirty-seven 
children — woke  up,  popped  into  his 
clothes,  and  ran  down  to  the  floor  below. 

"Father!  Mother!"  he  called,  "it's 
the  Fourth  of  July,  so  I'm  going  to  set  off 
•ome  firecrackers  1 " 


"Willie  Pepper,"  said  a  sleepy  voice 
from  the  closed  room,  "  it  is  not  the  Fourth 
of  July,  it  is  the  fifth,  and  much  too  early 
to  get  up." 

Willie  Pepper  thought  his  father  was 
just  teasing  him.  He  frequently  did.  So 
he  called  cheerfully  through  the  keyhole: 
"  I  know  better !  To-day  is  the  Fourth  of 
July." 

Then  he  heard  his  father's  voice  again — 
it  was  more  awake  this  time :  "  It's  the 
fifth  of  Jtly.  Go  downstairs  and  look  at 
the  morning  newspaper,  and  see  if  it 
isn't." 

So  Willie,  much  worried,  slid  down  the 
banisters,  and  there  on  the  door-mat  was 
the  morning  paper  with  "  July  fifth " 
printed  right  across  the  top.  Willie  had 
not  been  so  astonished  since  the  day  he  got 
to  the  head  of  the  spelling  class ;  that  was 
the  awfully  rainy  day  when  there  were 
only  two  children  in  the  class.  He  seized 
the  newspaper  and  tore  over  to  Billy 
B inks'  house — he  was  another  of  the 
thirty-seven  children — as  fast  as  he  could. 
Half-way  there  he  met  Billy  Binks  run- 
ning to  meet  him,  with  an  expression  of 
dismay  on  his 


Billy!  "cried  Willie. 
Willie!  "cried  Billy. 
« It's  the  fifth  of  July !  "  they  cried  both 
together.      Then  they   simply   looked   at 
each  other.    The  catastrophe  was  so  great 
they  couldn't  think  of  anything  else  to  say. 
Just  then  they  saw  another  of  the  thirty- 
seven  children  running  toward  them. 

"  All  the  lunch  baskets  are  gone!  "  she 
cried. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  rest  of  the  children 
were  assembled.  They  then  all  stood  in  a 
large  circle  and  looked  at  each  other  sadly 
and  solemnly  and  said : "  The  lunch  baskets 
are  all  gone,  and  it's  the  fifth  of  July!  " 

"  But  where's  the  Fourth?"  cried  Billy 
Binks.  Nobody  knew. 

"  We  certainly  didn't  sleep  all  through 
it,"  said  a  little  girl,  "  and  yesterday  was 
surely  the  third.  What  has  become  of  the 
Fourth  of  July?" 

"  Somebody  must  have  stolen  it,"  said 
Willie  Pepper.  "  What  shall  we  do?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Billy  Binks,  "  I  don't  see 
why  we  can't  set  off  our  firecrackers  on 
the  fifth.  They'll  make  just  as  much 
noise." 

At  this  a  smile  rippled  all  round  the  cir- 
cle, and  the  thirty-seven  children  clapped 
their  hands  and  shouted  with  glee,  "  Of 
course  we  can  set  them  off  on  the  fifth  just 
as  well!" 

Then  Willie  Pepper  drew  a  package  of 
firecrackers  from  his  jacket  pocket,  and  he 
drew  a  piece  of  punk  and  a  box  of  matches 
from  another  pocket,  and  all  the  children 
smiled.  Then  he  unbraided  the  pigtails 
of  the  firecrackers,  separated  one,  and  set 
it  up  in  the  middle  of  the  circle  of  children. 
Then  he  lighted  the  punk  with  a  match, 
and  he  lighted  the  pigtail  of  the  firecracker 
with  the  punk,  and  the  children  all  stood 
back  and  waited.  The  little  red  spark  at 
the  end  of  the  firecracker's  pigtail  glowed 


and  glowed,  and  the  pigtail  got  shorter  and 
shorter,  till  at  last  it  got  right  down  to  the 
firecracker  itseK,  and  then— then  it  went 

out! 

"  Oh!  "  cried  the  children  in  disappoint- 
ment, "  it  wasn't  a  good  one !  " 

"  I'll  try  another,"  said  Willie,  and  he 
did.  But  again  the  same  thing  happened. 

"  You  haven't  left  your  firecrackers  out 
in  the  rain,  have  you,  Willie?  "  asked  Billy. 
"  Rain's  very  bad  for  firecrackers'  health." 

Willie  sniffed  scornfully.  "Of  course 
not,"  he  replied.  "  Guess  I  know  enough 
not  to  leave  firecrackers  out  in  the  rain, 
even  if  I  am  two  months  and  a  quarter 
younger  than  you,  Billy  Binks." 

"  S'pose  we  try  one  of  mine,"  said  Billy, 
and  he  lighted  one  of  his  own  firecrackers. 
But  it  went  out,  just  as  Willie's  had  done. 
Then  the  rest  of  the  thirty-seven  children 
took  firecrackers  out  of  their  jacket  pockets 
and  their  apron  pockets,  but  they  wouldn't 
bang.  And  they  took  torpedoes  out  of 
their  jacket  pockets  and  their  apron 
pockets,  and  threw  them  down  as  hard  as 
they  could,  but  the  torpedoes  just  broke  to 
pieces  as  quietly  as  snowflakes.  Then  the 
thirty-seven  children  looked  at  each  other 
again,  and  some  of  the  littlest  ones  began 
to  cry. 

Then  Willie  Pepper  drew  himself  up 
and  folded  his  arms. 

"Someone,"  he  said  severely,  "has 
stolen  our  lunch  baskets  and  the  Fourth  of 
July,  and  all  the  bangs  out  of  our  fire- 
crackers and  torpedoes.  Who  is  it?" 
And  the  thirty-seven  children  cried  too 
together : 

"  The  gray  elf  of  the  mountain !  " 
Whenever  anything  went  wrong  at 
Brookville— when  the  currant  jelly 
wouldn't  jell,  or  the  cow  kicked  over  the 
milk  pail— people  always  said  "It's  the 
gray  elf  of  the  mountain !  "  And  gener- 


V- 


ally  it  was.  The  gray  elf  was  about  as 
tall  as  a  ruler,  and  he  always  dressed  in 
gray  velvet,  so  that's  why  they  called  him 
the  gray  elf.  He  lived  in  a  cave  on  a  high 
ledge  of  the  mountain  that  overlooked 
Brookville,  and  whenever  he  came  out  of 
that  cave  and  down  to  the  village  of 
Brookville  things  began  to  happen,  and  the 
people  said,  "  Oh,  that  gray  elf,  that  gray 
elf,  that  naughty,  mischievous  gray  elf! 
What  shall  we  do  with  him?" 

Now  this  was  a  silly  thing  to  say,  for 
they  never  got  a  chance  to  do  anything  to 
him,  because  they  never  could  catch  him, 
although  the  Brookville  County  Council 
had  handbills  printed  offering  a  reward  of 
$3.70  for  his  apprehension  and  conviction. 
But  on  the  fifth  of  July,  Willie  Pepper  de- 
cided to  do  something. 

"  I'm  going  up  that  mountain,"  he  said, 
"  to  the  cave  on  the  ledge  of  rock,  and  I'm 
going  to  make  that  gray  elf  give  us  back 
our  lunch  baskets  and  the  Fourth  of  July 
and  the  bangs  out  of  our  firecrackers. 
Who's  going  with  me  ?  " 

"  We're  going !  "  cried  all  the  rest  of  the 
children. 

So  they  set  out,  all  thirty-seven  of  them, 
Willie  Pepper  marching  at  the  head  of  the 
procession  with  the  newspaper  under  his 
arm,  the  rest  of  the  children  walking  be- 
hind, two  by  two,  like  a  boarding-school. 
Up  the  mountain  they  marched,  high  up, 
till  they  came  to  the  ledge  of  rock  that 
spread  out  in  front  of  the  gray  elf's  cave 
like  a  piazza.  Then  Willie  Pepper  walked 
straight  up  to  the  front  door  of  the  cave, 
and  knocked 'a  good  loud  knock  with  his 
fist.  The  gray  elf  was  very  busy  inside 
the  cave.  He  had  spread  out  all  the  thirty- 
seven  lunch  baskets  in  a  long  line  and  was 
just  going  to  begin  unpacking  them  when 
he  heard  Willie  Pepper  knock  at  the  door. 

"  I  guess  that's  the  postman,"  he  said  to 


himself.  "  Slip  the  letter  under  the  door," 
he  called  out,  for  he  was  so  excited  about 
unpacking  the  lunch  baskets  that  he  did 
not  want  to  stop  to  open  the  door. 

He  had  begun  untying  the  first  basket 
when  Willie  Pepper  knocked  at  the  door 
again,  louder  than  before. 

"Oh  bother!"  said  the  gray  elf.  "It 
must  be  the  grocery  boy."  He  was  in  such 
a  hurry  to  find  out  what  was  in  the  first 
basket  that  he  hated  to  stop,  so  he  called 
out,  "I  don't  want  any  groceries  to-day. 
I  have  thirty-seven  lunch  baskets  full  of 
things  to  eat." 

Thirty-seven  lunch  baskets!  The  chil- 
dren looked  at  each  other.  Then  Willie 
took  the  newspaper  from  under  his  arm 
and  rolled  it  up  into  a  large  cornucopia,  and 
he  called  through  it  so  that  his  voice 
sounded  just  as  if  he  were  a  great  big 
grown-up  man :  "  I  know  you  have  our 
lunch  baskets!  That's  what  we've  come 
all  the  way  up  the  mountain  for.  You 
must  give  them  back  to  us  right  away !  " 

"  Shan't!  "  cried  the  gray  elf  in  a  great 
state  of  excitement,  gathering  the  lunch 
baskets  about  him.  "  I  want  to  keep  them 
myself,  and  I  never  took  them,  and  I  don't 
know  anything  about  them,  and  I'm  asleep 
anyhow,  so  go  away  as  quietly  as  you  can 
or  you'll  wake  me  up." 

"  You  must  give  us  our  baskets,  and  the 
Fourth  of  July,  and  all  the  bangs  out  of 
our  firecrackers  and  torpedoes,"  repeated 
Willie. 

"  I  didn't  take  them,  and  I  won't  give 
them  back,  and  you  couldn't  possibly  find 
them  because  you  don't  know  where  I  put 
them,"  said  the  naughty  elf. 

"  If  you  don't  open  the  door  before  I 
count  ten,"  Willie  continued,  unmoved, 
"  we  will  break  it  down.  One,  two, 
three "  he  began  counting  slowly. 

"  I'll  open  it.  I'll  open  it ! "  cried  the 


"  0«AT  ELF,"  HE  SAID,   "  YOU  HAVE  BEEN  /J8T  AS  NAUGHTY  A3  YOU  COULD  POSSIBLY  BX  " 

gray  elf  in  a  great  fright,  and  he  tumbled  locked  the  cupboard  door,  put  the  key  in 

all  the  baskets  into  the  big  hide-away  cup-  his  pocket,  and  opened  the  front  door, 

board  in  which  he  kept  all  the  things  he  "  Do  you  know,"  he  said,  "  I  thought  I 

knevr   he  oughtn't  to   have.     Then   he  heard    someone    knocking.      I    hope    I 


*u»ven't  kept  you  wait "  But  ht  didn't 

get  any  further,  for  just  at  that  moment 
Willie  clapped  the  big  newspaper  cornu- 
copia over  him,  and  there  he  was  caught 
last  and  tight,  and  he  couldn't  get  out 
again.  The  gray  elf  kicked  and  the  gray 
elf  squirmed,  but  Willie  held  the  cornu- 
copia firmly.  Then  the  elf  tried  to  make  a 
hole  in  the  cornucopia,  but  Willie  heard 
the  paper  tear,  and  he  slipped  his  hand 
quickly  underneath,  caught  the  gray  elf 
round  the  waist,  and  dragged  him  out. 
Then  he  held  him  at  arm's  length  between 
his  hands,  but  gently,  so  he  should  not  hurt 
him. 

"  Gray  elf,"  he  said,  "  you  have  been 
just  as  naughty  as  you  could  possibly  be, 
and  the  Brookville  County  Council  has 
offered  a  reward  of  $3.70  for  your  appre- 
hension and  conviction  " — Willie  had  read 
the  handbills — "  and  that  would  be  ten  cents 
for  each  of  us,  so  we  will  take  you  to  them 
and  get  the  $370  to  buy  new  fireworks 
unless  you  give  us  back  our  old  ones  and 
our  lunch  baskets  and  the  Fourth  of  July." 

"  I  don't  care,"  said  the  gray  elf,  kick- 
ing one  heel  carelessly,  "  I'd  like  real  well 
to  be  taken  to  the  Brookville  County  Coun- 
cil ! "  He  just  said  that,  he  didn't  really 
mean  it,  for  he  didn't  know  what  an  ap- 
prehension or  conviction  was ;  they  sounded 
a  little  uncomfortable. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Willie,  and  he  turned 
to  go  down  the  mountain. 

"I  guess,"  said  the  gray  elf,  clinging 
rather  tightly  to  Willie's  arm,  "  I  guess- 


maybe — after  all— I  won't  go  to-day.  Th« 
lunch  baskets  and  things  are  in  th«  hide- 
away cupboard.  Here's  the  key."  Then 
all  th"e  children  went  into  the  cave  and  un- 
locked the  cupboard,  and  got  the  baskets. 

"  The  Fourth  of  July  is  wrapped  up  in 
that  pink  tissue  paper  package,"  said  the 
elf,  "  and  the  bangs  are  in  that  tin  cracker- 
box.  I  wish  I  could  keep  them,  because  I 
haven't  anything  to  play  with  and  it  is  so 
lonely  up  here  just  by  myself." 

"  If  you  were  a  nice,  good  gray  elf  you 
could  play  with  us,"  said  Willie. 

"  I'll  be  good !  I'll  be  good !  "  cried  the 
elf.  "  I'm  only  naughty  because  I  haven't 
anything  else  to  do." 

"  All  right,"  said  Willie.  «  We're  going 
to  have  a  picnic  in  Turtle's  Wood,  and  you 
can  come  to  it,"  and  he  sat  the  gray  elf  on 
his  shoulder. 

So  the  children  trooped  down  the 
mountain  to  the  woods.  When  they  got 
there  it  was  late  afternoon  and  the  sun  was 
getting  low  in  the  western  sky.  But  as 
soon  as  Willie  untied  the  string  of  the  pink 
tissue  paper  package  and  the  Fourth  of 
July  flew  out,  the  sun  jumped  back  to  the 
east,  and  it  was  morning  again — the  morn- 
ing of  the  Fourth  of  July. 

Then  the  children  opened  the  tin  cracker- 
box,  and  as  soon  as  the  cover  was  lifted  all 
the  bangs  went  off  one  after  the  other — 
bang !  bang  Ibang !  bang ! — so  loud  that  Wil- 
lie's father,  way  back  in  the  village,  woke 
up  and  rubbed  his  eyes  and  said,  "Dear 
me !  It  is  the  Fourth  of  July  after  all ! " 


AN  ILLUMINATION 

•HE  moon  was  home  A  little  mouse 

One  summer  night,  Who  saw  the  sight. 

And  made  her  house  Went  back  to  bed 

So  round  and  bright  In  great  affright. 

J.  F.  CBOWBLL. 


VICTOR'S  DRAGOON  TROUSERS 

By  JANET  THOMAS 


|NCE  upon  a  time,  many  years 
before  Jackie  or  Mabel  or 
Dorothy  or  any  other  child 
whose  bright  eyes  are  reading 
these  pages  were  born,  there  lived  across 
the  big  ocean  in  sunny  France  a  very  little 
boy,  who  at  times  was  quite  naughty.  His 
poor  mother  was  at  her  wits'  end  to  know 
what  to  do  to  make  him  a  well-behaved 
child. 

Not  that  Victor  meant  to  be  a  bad 
boy!  Oh,  no!  What  little  boy  or  girl 
does  mean  to  be  naughty  ?  But  it  did  seem 
as  though  the  little  French  laddie  found 
very  many  things  to  do  that  his  mother 
wished  him  not  to  do. 

One  day  when  she  felt  that  he  had  been 
altogether  too  naughty,  and  had  come  in 
from  play  with  his  clothes  badly  torn 
(for  it  was  one  of  his  big  faults  to  spoil 
his  clothes),  his  mother  said  in  a  vexed 
tone: 

"Victor!  Victor!  How  shall  I  keep 
clothes  on  you,  child?  Now,  I  shall  dress 
you  again,  and  if  these  new  clothes  are 
torn  I  shall  give  you  dragoon  trousers." 

"Dragoon   trousers!    And   what    are 


those?  "  thought  Victor.  Some  new  kind 
of  clothes  surely;  perhaps  made  of  some 
kind  of  cloth  that  he  could  not  tear.  He 
had  never  heard  the  word  before,  and  it  so 
lodged  itself  in  his  little  pate  that  he  re- 
peated it  many  times  to  himself  during  the 
next  few  hours.  "  Dragoon  trousers !  "  he 
would  say  thoughtfully.  "  If  I  tear  these 
I  have  on,  mother  will  give  me  some  dra- 
goon trousers." 

It  so  happened,  as  he  was  playing  about 
the  garden  that  afternoon,  that  he  heard  a 
great  burst  of  music  and  the  noise  of 
cheering.  Hurrying  to  the  wall,  he 
climbed  up  and  peeped  over. 

Such  a  surprising  sight  met  his  eyes. 
It  almost  caused  him  to  lose  his  balance 
and  fall  back  from  the  stone  wall.  There, 
almost  opposite  him,  was  a  troop  of  French 
soldiers  dressed  in  gay  uniforms  a.nd 
mounted  upon  splendid,  prancing  horses. 
Such  gay,  beautiful  clothes  Victor  had 
never  seen  before;  and  as  the  trimmings 
and  firearms  flashed  in  the  sunlight,  and 
tiie  handsome  soldiers  marched  to  the  beat 
of  the  drum,  it  was  enough  to  awaken 
the  soul  of  boys  little  and  big. 


Who  were  they,  Victor  wondered;  and 
just  as  he  was  thinking  this,  an  old 
Frenchman  who  walked  with  a  cane  hob- 
bled by  and  as  he  reached  Victor  he  said 
to  his  companion: 


hard  against  a  stone.  But  he  did  not  evSB 
notice  the  pain,  for  he  was  saying  to  him- 
self: 

"Dragoons!      Dragoons!      And    such 
beautiful    clothes    with    such    beautiful 


YOU    SHALL    HAVE    DRAGOON    TROUSZES  '  ' 


"  Why  are  the  dragoons  out  to-day  ?  " 
Then,  in  great  amazement  and  without 
even  hearing  the  reply,  Victor  did  tumble 
Off  his  perch  and  bumped  his  shins  very 


trimmings!  And  if  I  tear  my  clothes 
mother  says  she  will  give  me  dragoon 
trousers!  Surely  it  is  worth  tearing 
them!" 


When  Victor  wanted  a  thing  at  all  he 
wanted  it  very  much  and  right  away. 
And  the  more  he  thought  of  the  splen- 
didly dressed  soldiers,  the  more  he  wished 
that  he  might  think  of  some  way  to  tear 
his  clothes  so  that  his  mother  would  keep 
her  promise.  Bei^g  anxious  to  tear  them, 
he  had  better  luck  than  in  a  whole  week 
of  Sundays  when  he  tried  with  might  and 
main  to  get  into  no  mischief;  and  not  a 
rent  appeared  in  his  clothes.  They  stayed 
beautifully  whole  and  neat.  In  vain  did 
he  run  and  climb.  The  more  he  fell  the 
better  his  suit  looked  and  he  despaired 
of  ever  tearing  his  clothes  \  and  the  coveted 
"dragoon  trousers"  seemed  very  far 
away. 

At  last  he  could  stand  it  no  longer,  and 
running  into  the  house  he  took  a  big  pair 
of  shears  from  his  mother's  sewing  table 
and  slashed  the  trousers  in  many  places 
until  the  suit  was  in  rags.  Then  he  ran 
to  his  mother,  crying: 

"  Mother,  mother,  give  me  some  dra- 
goon trousers.  See,  I  have  torn  my 
clothes  1 " 

"  What !  "  cried  his  mother,  scarcely 
believing  her  eyes,  "the  new  clothes  I 
but  just  put  on  you,  torn?  And  cut  to 
pieces  at  thatl  Indeed,  Victor,  you  shall 


have  dragoon  trousers !  You  d«««rv«  ^ 
and  it  may  teach  you  a  lesson." 

Thereupon  she  seized  th«  little  fcotf, 
took  him  across  her  knee  and  gave  him 
the  hardest  spanking  he  had  ever  known. 
Then  she  led  him  to  another  room  and  put 
upon  him  an  old  pair  of  patched  trousers. 
In  his  disappointment  at  not  receiving  the 
new  clothes  he  expected  Victor  was  very 
near  to  tears,  but  he  managed  to  blurt 
out: 

"  But  you  said  you  would  give  me  dra- 
goon trousers,  mother,  and  these  are  my 
very  oldest  that  you  had  thrown  away." 

"  Tut,  child,"  said  his  mother,  tried  be- 
yond all  patience,  "would  you  have  me 
believe  that  a  French  boy  does  not  know 
that  'dragoon  trousers'  means  nothing 
but  a  good  spanking?  And  that  I  have 
just  given  you." 

Then  little  Victor's  heart  was  like  lead. 
Who  would  ever  have  supposed  that  "  dra- 
goon trousers  "  could  mean  those  beauti- 
ful clothes  of  the  gay  soldiers  and  also  a 
whipping? 

Now  if  an  old  Frenchwoman  should  tell 
any  little  American  boy  or  girl  that  he  or 
she  will  be  given  "  dragoon  trousers,"  re- 
member what  is  in  store  and  be  on  your 
best  behavior. 


A  CHRISTMAS  HOLD-UP 


By  ARTHUR  RENWICK   O'HARA 


OMMY  MORRIS   sat  in  the 
manger  of  his  father's  stable 
while   Biddy,   his   little  white 
bantam,   ate  grains  of  wheat 
from  his  chubby  hand. 

"  Just  think,  Biddy,  you  old  dear,"  said 
Tommy,  "  to-morrow  is  Christmas  and  to- 
night I'll  hang  up  my  stocking,  for  Santa 
Claus  is  coming." 


He  hoped  that  they  would  feed  their  pig 
and  go  away  without  knowing  that  he 
was  there. 

Pretty  soon  he  heard  the  younger  Hen- 
nesey  say :  "  That  was  shure  a  fine  letter 
ye  writ  to  ould  Santy.  The  worruk  of 
it  must  have  fair  sprained  yer  head 
Mickey,  jist  read  it  agin,  won't  ye?  " 

"  All  right,"  returned  Mickey,  unfold- 


Just  then  the  door  of  the  adjoining 
stable  opened,  and  through  the  cracks 
Tommy  caught  the  gleam  of  a  round  red 
head  of  one  of  his  young  neighbors, 
Policeman  Hennesey's  sons. 

Tommy  sat  very  still.  He  and  the 
Wetmeseys  were  not  good  friends. 


ing  a  piece  of  dirty,  crumpled  paper,  "  but 
ye'll  have  to  shell  the  pig's  corn  if  I  do, 
for  my  hands  will  be  busy." 

Tommy  had  been  taught  that  eaves- 
dropping was  very  wrong;  i»o  he  closed 
his  eyes  and  stopped  his  ears;  but  this  is 
what  he  heard : 


M  Dear  Sandy  Claws,  we  air  seven  pore 
orflings  that  live  in  pleeceman  henneseys 
stable  an  we  hop  youl  bring  us  sum 
presents  or  me  littul  bruthers  harts  will 
be  broke  we  like  kandy  toyes  ornges  an 
everthin  cum  erly  before  you  goes  anny- 
wears  else  so  no  more  at  presen  from 
>even  pore  orflings." 

"  Are  ye  shure  we  can  overpower  'im  ?  " 
inquired  Patsey,  as  his  brother  refolded 
the  letter.  "Ye  see,  he's  bound  to  thrip 
over  thim  strings  we'll  have  tied  in  front 
of  the  dure,  an'  sind  his  pack  a  tumblin' 
an'  thin " 

And  then — Tommy's  round  grey  eyes 
grew  yet  more  round  with  horror  as  he 
listened  to  the  dark  plot  unfolded  by  Mick 
and  Patsey.  Good  gracious!  What  vil- 
lainy !  Who  would  have  believed  that  so 
much  rascality  and  cunning  lurked  within 
those  round  red  heads?  Tommy  could 
scarcely  believe  his  ears — the  Henneseys 
were  going  to  decoy  Santa  into  the  stable 
by  means  of  that  letter,  rob  him  of  his 
pack,  and— if  he  resisted — perhaps  mur- 
der him. 

Tommy  put  Biddy  down  and  made  for 
the  house  as  fast  as  his  fat  little  legs  could 
carry  him ;  and  he  shook  his  bank  with  all 
his  might  till  at  last  he  shook  out  the 
dime  which  was  all  the  money  he  had, 
and  then  he  hurried  out  and  boarded  a 
street  car,  for  he  felt  that  there  was  not 
a  moment  to  be  lost. 

"  I  never  did  tell  on  them  before,"  he 
reflected,  "no  matter  what  they  did  to 
me,  for  I  don't  like  to  be  a  tattler;  but 
this  is  too  awful  to  keep." 

"  Let  me  off  here,  Mr.  Conductor,"  he 
said,  politely,  as  he  caught  sight  of  Mr. 
Hennesey  just  outside  of  the  police  sta- 
tion, and  rushing  up  to  that  astonished 
gentleman  he  told  him  of  the  crime  con- 
templated by  b<s  sons. 


"  You  know  your  two  boys,  Mr.  Hen- 
nesey," he  began,  breathlessly  "You 
know  Patiey  and  Mickey — well,  they've 
got  up  a  plan  to  rob  Santa  Claus. 
They've  wrote  him  a  letter  telling  him 
they  are  seven  poor  orphans  that  live  in 
your  stable,  so  that  he'll  be  sorry  for 
them,  and  when  he  comes  he'll  trip  over 
their  string,  an'  if  he  don't  give  'em  his 
pack  without  any  fuss  I  'spect  they'll 
kill  him."  And  the  tears  rolled  down 
Tommy's  plump  cheeks. 

"  The  spalpeens !  An'  who  would 
have  belaved  it  of  'em  ?  "  cried  their  in- 
dignant father.  "See  here,  Bub,"  he 
said  kindly,  as  he  handed  Tommy  a 
bright,  new  silver  quarter,  "jist  do  you 
go  home  an'  rist  aisy.  I'll  see  that  they 
don't  bar  rum  ould  Santy,  an'  jis'  kape  yer 
eye  on  the  stable  this  night  an'  see  what 
happens." 

Christmas  Eve  Tommy  retired  early, 
but  not  to  sleep.  Wrapped  in  the  bed- 
clothes, with  his  small  nose  flattened 
against  the  frosty  window  pane,  he 
watched  the  Hennesey  stable;  and  this  is 
what  he  saw :  First,  the  two  young  Hen- 
neseys, heavily  armed,  stealing  forth  and 
entering  the  stable. 

Soon  afterward  there  came  a  tall,  oddly 
dressed  person  carrying  a  pack.  Tommy 
supposed  that  this  must  be  Santa  Claus — 
yet  he  did  not  look  as  Tommy  had  ex- 
pected Santa  Claus  to  look,  neither  did 
his  bundle  look  like  Santa  Claus's  pack,  as 
he  had  seen  it  in  pictures. 

While  he  was  thinking  of  this  he  heard 
ear-splitting  howls,  and  he  saw  this 
strange  Santa  Claus  throw  aside  his  pack, 
gather  up  two  frightened,  red-haired 
boys,  and  spank  them  soundly  and  then 
roll  them  in  the  snow. 

As  Mickey  and  Patsey  fled  to  the  safe 


waven  of  their  mother's  kitchen,  Tommy 
saw  Santa  Claus  pick  up  his  strange  pack 
and  fling  it  in  the  Hennesey  stable  and  go 
chuckling  away. 

The  next  morning,  Tommy,  peering 
through  a  crack  in  the  Hennesey  stable, 
noted,  with  astonishment,  that  the  queer 
pack  was  only  a  large  bundle  of  tough 
willow  switches ;  but  he  told  no  one  about 
them. 

That  afternoon,  during  their  mother's 
absence,  the  two  young  Henneseys  indus- 
triously chopped  up  these  switches  and 


burned  them  in  the  kitchen  stove,  but— 
they  said  nothing  about  them. 

On  Christmas  morning,  when  Mr.  Hen- 
nesey gave  them  a  few  toys,  he  remarked 
grimly :  "  Here's  a  few  things  yer  mother 
bought  for  ye.  I  suppose  old  Santy  was 
too  busy  lookin'  afther  poor  orflings  to 
think  of  yez,"  but — he  said  no  word  of 
switches. 

Mrs.  Hennesey  knew  naught  of  her 
son's  wicked  scheme,  so  she,  of  course, 
said  nothing  about  the  switches.  So  you 
see  the  secret  of  the  Christmas  Hold-up 
was  pretty  well  kept — for  a  secret 


(iONSENSE  RHYMES 

»v    DOROTHY  HCKEN 


,  sa.id    To    StsTer  Oua- 
innocene*     delicious- 
'Should    one      use 

io\yr  points 
>f5    i  "When 


6uf  rasTed-    from 
to    a^y  •  "    IJ'   -Jishea     Arc 
— 4h«y    thould    b«   ilon«     «a 


I've    & 
And 

French 
And 

umberell- 
W  U  An  AmeriCAn'? 

for    ifl   1K»,T. 
And  (  wear  them  To 
look    swell '  • 


Now  dont  be  lon 
AoThsy  SM<J. 
ff  really  m«»ke4  me 


'or  How 
loo 
Two 


Atthtf   " 

Adi  too    old   5or   dolls 

I  know  jo<T  wW  HI  do 
pUnT   my     lovely 


So     «b«     w,H   grow  up 


«mner- 

«/tto  wiK-k    sometimes 
to  la-te  ^ov  her  dinner 
She    ^Te     suppev 
instead  • 
d    «o  w«rit  fo  bed- 

•/mi  rw 


SLOWBOY  AND  THE  BLUE  GOBLINS 

By  W.  H.  AMD  S.  W.  WALLACE 


LITTLE  "Slowboy"  Jones  was 
eight  years  old,  when  he  had  a 
very  odd  adventure.  He  had 
earned  the  nicknam*  of  "  Slow- 
boy"  by  his  bad  habits,  although  in  the 
main  a  good  boy,  bright  at  his  studies  and 
not  given  to  telling  stories.  But  Sammy— 
which  was  his  real  name — was  lazy  and 
quick-tempered.  Why,  when  that  boy  was 
angry,  which  was  too  often  the  case,  he 
would  stamp  on  the  floor,  bang  doors,  tear 
off  his  collar  and  tie,  or  even  burst  off  all 
the  buttons  of  his  shoes.  As  bad  as  was 
his  temper,  however,  we  are  sorry  to  re- 
cord that  his  indolence  was  even  worse; 
for  he  was  overfond  of  a  soft  bed,  very 
often  late  to  his  breakfast,  and  would  come 
down  in  a  state  of  incompleteness  quite 
shocking — his  shoes  half  buttoned,  face 
unwashed,  or  only  washed  on  one  side, 
hair  in  a  whirl,  buttons  unbuttoned  and 
strings  in  his  clothes  untied.  But  do  not 
blame  his  fond  parents,  for  they  tried 
often  to  reform  him,  when  he  would  be 
hurried  upstairs  and  his  toilet  brusquely 
finished  with  what  he  considered  unnec- 
tortures.  Or,  at  table,  his  mother 


would  suddenly  exclaim,  on  his  reaching 
for  a  biscuit: 

"  Now,  now,  my  dear,  wait  and  things 
will  be  passed  to  you."  Or,  when  he  tried 
to  get  that  last  potato :  "  No,  no,  always 
remember  to  leave  the  last  of  a  dish  for 
Mr.  Manners." 

Mr.  Manners,  who  never  came,  but  was 
always  expected,  was  a  sore  puzzle  to 
Slowboy.  Why  did  he  not  come  and  eat 
his  dinner  and  be  over  with  it,  thought 
Slowboy. 

But  he  did  not  improve  at  all ;  for  his 
bad  habits  were  very  hard  to  lay  aside. 

One  bright  Sunday  Slowboy  asked  his 
mother,  after  a  severe  reprimand  at  table, 
who  this  Mr.  Manners  was,  and  why  he 
did  not  ever  come  to  his  meals,  so  con- 
stantly saved  for  him. 

His  mother  looked  over  her  eye-glasses 
at  him  and  said,  mysteriously :  "  You  must 
not  be  too  curious  about  Mr.  Manners; 
he's  a  gentleman,  sir,  and  would  never, 
never  grab  at  table  or  leave  his  face  un- 
washed, or  his  clothes  untidy — never. 
And,"  she  leaned  over,  whispering,  "he 
may  call  very  suddenly  some  day,  oerhaoa 


to-morrow— he  and  the  blue  goblins.  They 
are  especially  fond  of  calling  on  a  blue 
Monday.''  Then  mamma  laughed  and  re- 
assured him,  for  at  the  mention  of  goblins 
little  Slowboy  turned  pale.  "There  are 
really  no  goblins,  dear,  excepting  in  your 
mind's  eye,"  added  his  papa. 

When  dark  came,  and  bed-time,  poor 
little  Slowboy  felt  nervous.  Whom  should 
he  believe?  And  what  was  a  '  mind's  eye?' 
He  retired  in  a  very  serious  state  of  mind 
indeed. 


ON    THE   BED   STOOD    A    STRANGE    BEAST,    LIKE    A    BABY    ELEPHANT. 

The  next  morning  Slowboy  awoke,  to 
find  himself,  as  usual,  in  a  deliciously 
drowsy  state.  He  remembered  that  it  was 
Monday,  and  that  his  father  had  often  said, 
"  Every  Monday  is  a  Blue  Monday  to 
schoolboys."  With  this  thought  came 
another — Mr.  Manners  was  fond  of  call- 
ing on  a  Blue  Monday.  Oh,  he  felt 
scared,  and  peeped  carefully  over  the 
coverlid !  The  clock  in  his  mother's  room 
struck  eight,  and  someone  called  out, 
"  Bnrtle.  bustle,  now !  It's  time  for  break- 


fast,  and  nearly  time  for  school,  Slow- 
boy." 

"  I  will  not,"  said  he  sullenly,  anu  he 
turned  over  for  another  nap.  But  he 
could  not  get  over  a  feeling  that  something 
was  about  to  happen,  and  peeping  out,  he 
was  sure  he  saw  little  objects  hopping  in  at 
the  window  and  alighting  on  the  footboard 
of  his  cot.  They  looked  just  like  bright 
blue  crows  sitting  on  a  telegraph  wire. 
Slowboy  now  stared  hard.  Yes,  he  saw 
with  fright  a  number  of  curious  birds,  the 
like  of  which  he  had  never  seen  before. 
They  were  all  made  of  blue  tinware, 
surely,  and  covered  with  stiff  feathers 
that  rattled  whenever  they  moved,  like 
a  lot  of  tin  pans  falling  from  a  shelf. 
Their  eyes  shone  like  headlights  on  an 
autocar  or  a  locomotive,  while  puffs 
of  steam  came  from  their  open  bills. 
O-o-h !  He  gazed  in  terror,  and  saw 
now  that  on  the  head  of  each  bird  was 
a  huge  brass  whistle.  Hardly  had  he 
noticed  this,  when  all  the  birds  emitted 
from  the  whistles  several  piercing 
shrieks,  and  then  all  flew  out  the  win- 
dow again. 

Slowboy  was  certainly  awake  now, 
he  thought,  but  as  the  moments  passed 
and  the  blue  crows  did  not  return, 
he  decided  that  he  was  deceived  and 
dozed  off  again. 

Plump!  An  object  like  a  heavy  pillow 
landed  on  the  bed;  and  before  Slowboy 
could  turn  to  see  what  it  was — bump, 
bump,  bang !  He  was  pushed  right  out  of 
bed  and  landed  on  the  floor.  On  the  bed 
stood  a  strange  beast  like  a  baby  elephant, 
only  instead  of  a  trunk  it  had  a  scoop  on 
its  nose.  The  boy  thought  it  was  a  goblin. 
As  he  called  loudly  for  mamma,  the  crea- 
ture scuttled  hastily  up  the  chimney. 
Slowboy  was  no  longer  sleepy,  and  no- 
ticed his  clothes  neatly  folded  on  a  chair. 


This  was  strange,  for  he  usually  tossed 
them  in  every  direction  when  he  retired. 
Very  thoughtful  and  sober,  he  scurried 
into  his  clothes,  taking  scared  peeps  be- 
hind him,  and  omitting  as  much  of  his 


nallway.  He  could  not  reach  them  no  mat- 
ter how  fast  he  rushed  after  them.  In 
despair  he  sat  down  to  cry,  but  instead  he 
buttoned  up  his  shoes  and  waist.  To  his 
surprise  the  stairs  resumed  their  usual 


SLOSH — StOSH — SLUZZLE — SLUZZLE-SLAP !    CAME  SOME    SOFT    WET    OBJECT    RIGHT    INTO    HIS    FACE. 


toilet  as  possible.  Such  ceremonies  as 
washing  and  brushing  his  hair  and  tying 
his  waist,  he  did  not  at  this  time  consider 
necessary.  Everything  in  his  room  looked 
out  of  place  and  excessively  neat,  and  he 
was  glad  to  scamper  out  of  it. 
In  the  hall,  he  found  that  the  stairs  had 
away  and  were  far  off  down  a  long 


place  as  soon  as  he  had  done  this.  So 
great  was  his  hurry  to  get  to  breakfast 
now,  that  he  slid  down  the  banisters  and 
entered  the  room  as  if  running  a  foot  race. 
But  here  his  bewilderment  grew  apace. 
Mercy !  What  was  going  on  there  ?  In- 
stead of  his  mamma  and  papa  seated  at 
the  little  round  table,  there  sat  a  great  num- 


fcev  01  boys  at  a  very  long  table,  with  a 
itrange  man  at  the  head.  All  these  boys 
/fere  neatly  washed  and  dressed.  Poor, 
.scared  Slowboy  turned  to  escape,  but  the 
door  oddly  moved  away  just  as  the  stairs 
had  done,  so  that  he  could  not  get  out; 
whereat  all  those  boys  laughed  loudly,  the 
man  rapped  on  the  table,  and  there  was  a 
dreadful  din  to  be  sure.  Slowboy,  see- 
ing no  avenue  of  escape,  sat  down  in  a 
chair  at  the  table  and  gave  up  for  the 
moment.  He  saw  that  on  the  back  of 
every  chair  sat  one  of  the  blue  crows. 

The  severe  person  whom  Slowboy 
guessed  was  Mr.  Manners,  admonished 
him  to  eat  his  meal  and  not  to  talk  so 
much,  which  he  thought  odd  since  he  had 
not  spoken.  He  also  perceived  that  Mr. 
Manners  spied  and  instantly  corrected 
the  slightest  breach  of  table  behavior ;  and 
if  a  boy  did  not  eat  what  was  placed  be- 
fore him,  the  food  was  gobbled  up  by  the 
blue  crow  on  his  chair.  Several  boys 
were  already  in  this  predicament. 

Very  much  grieved  at  these  astounding 
changes  in  his  mother's  dining-room, 
Slowboy  sat  dallying  with  a  plate  of  beans 
that  was  before  him ;  he  felt  hungry,  but 
was  too  angry  to  eat. 

"You  had  better  eat  your  beans 
quickly,"  whispered  a  boy  next  to  him, 
"or  they  will  all  be  gone." 

"Mind  your  own  business,"  shouted 
sSlowboy  angrily,  "  this  is  my  dining-room, 
'••vway 

He  tasted  the  beans,  however,  and  find- 
Jig  them  good,  he  was  on  the  point:  of 
devouring  them,  when  Mr.  Manners 
called  out  suddenly:  "Master  Jones  is 
leaning  his  elbows  on  the  table !  That  is 
very  rude.  Where  could  he  have  been 
brought  up,,  except  in  the  backwoods?" 
Slowboy  angrily  put  down  his  fork  to 
although  the  voice  and  remark 


sounded  strangely  like  his  mothers,  when 
whisk !  His  beans  were  all  gobbled  up  by 
the  blue  crow.  This  was  too  much.  With 
a  scream  of  rage,  Slowboy  dashed  his 
empty  plate  at  the  blue  crow  (the  plate 
went  straight  through  a  large  glass  cup- 
board door)  and  rushed  toward  the  door. 
The  door  kindly  stayed  in  one  place,  and 
he  found  himself  in  the  street. 

"  I  just  wish  I  was  a  growr»-up  man," 
he  sobbed.  "I'd  hit  him!" 

Where  were  his  parents?  Where  all 
those  school-boys  he  knew  ?  Looking  down 
the  long  white  road,  Slowboy  saw  the  old 
red  school-house  with  the  boys  and  girls 
flocking  in.  There  was  a  large  number 
of  boys  and  girls,  not  one  of  whom  he 
knew,  all  hurrying  to  the  brick  school- 
house.  Some  of  these  boys,  he  gleefully 
observed,  were  bothered  by  whole  flocks 
of  those  strange  blue  birds,  of  all  shapes 
and  sizes,  while  the  other  children  all 
laughed  at  the  unfortunate  ones. 

Slowboy  was  just  joining  in  the  laugh, 
when  suddenly — slosh-slosh-sluzzle-sluz- 
zle-slap!  came  some  soft  wet  object  right 
into  his  face,  actually  washing  him.  It 
rubbed  around  his  eyes,  ears  and  nose, 
down  neck  and  under  chin,  thoroughly 
and  vigorously  until  he  dripped  miserably 
with  soap  and  warm  water.  He  tried  to 
fight  off  this  bird — it  was  a  bird — and  at 
last  got  a  look  at  it.  Something  like  a 
duck,  it  was  soft  and  full  of  hole?  as  ?. 
fcath  sponge.  Its  feathers  oozed  and 
dripped  soap  and  water.  Very  soon  Slow- 
boy  was  as  clean  as  a  new  pin,  but  before 
he  could  breathe  freely,  this  bird  gave 
place  to  another,  that  went  sopp-soop,  all 
over  his  face  with  clear  and  very  cold 
water.  This  one  had  wings  like  two  wash- 
rags.  It  was  closely  followed  by  a  very 
large  bird  that  completely  covered  his  head 
W  ill  soft  folds,  and  resembled  a  bttfc 


towel  very  closely.  While  being  wiped 
dry  by  the  Towel-laird,  Slowboy  felt  two 
jmall  birds  hum  up  and  bore  out  his  ears ; 
#hile  as  soon  as  he  was  dry,  others  at- 
tacked him,  one  pair  rubbing  and  brushing 
and  combing  his  tangled  locks  until  his 
head  burned;  another,  with  a  long  taper 
bill,  vigorously  arranging  his  neglected 
tie;  and  still  others  buttoning  up  his 
clothes  with  violent  yanks  and  jerks. 
My,  what  a  dreadful  ordeal  that  was  1  And 
when  at  last  the  fussy,  annoying  birds 
flew  off  to  another  bad  boy,  Slowboy  stood 
paralyzed  with  fright  and  anger.  A  nice, 
clean,  neat  boy  approached  and  smiled  at 
him. 

"  Well,  they  fixed  you  up  finely,  didn't 
they  ?  "  he  said  to  Slowboy.  "  That's  the 
way  I  was  treated  once;  I  have  been 
through  it  all,  too.  You've  had  the  Soap- 
and-water  Bird,  the  Sponge-him-off, 
Towel  and  Comb  -.nd-brush  birds.  Now 
look  out  for  the  Hurry-skurry ;  I  guess 
you  will  learn,  what's-your-name." 

"  Hush  up !  "  screamed  Slowboy,  rudely. 
"  You're  a  goody-goody,"  The  other  boy 


hurried  off  laughing,  just  as  the  achoolj 
bell  began  to  ring. 

The  bell  was  still  ringing  as  he  reached 
the  door  and  every  other  scholar  had  gone 
in.  A  fear  of  being  late  seized  him,  and 
he  dashed  headlong  through  the  door. 

But  O,  what  did  this  mean?  Instead 
of  the  kindly  schoolma'am,  there  sat  Mr. 
Manners  in  the  chair,  prim  and  severe, 
gazing  over  his  spec's.  Before  Slowboy 
could  find  his  seat,  which  seemed  to  have 
moved  away,  a  large  thin  bird  with  a  very 
long  flexible  bill,  attacked  him,  and  began 
whipping  him  severely.  The  Rattan-bitf 
was  doing  splendid  work  on  poor  Slow- 
boy,  whose  howls  grew  louder  and  louder, 

"  Mercy  sakes  alive,  child ! "  said  his 
mother's  voice  in  his  ear,  "  don't  scream 
so !  Wake  up,  Slowboy  or  you  will  be  late 
for  school  again."  She  was  gently  prod- 
ding him  with  a  cane  as  he  lay  in  his  cot, 
and  the  clock  stood  at  half  after  eight 
o'clock. 

Perhaps  it  was  but  a  bad  dream  after 
all. 


i/po\^^/ffl5/^ 


THE   STRIKE   AT  SANTA  CLAUS'  SHOP 

By  WILLIAM  O.  STEVENS 


<rPWAS  a  month  before  Christmas,  but  all  round  the  Pole 

Santa's  Esquimo  workmen  had  "  struck,"  every  soul. 
All  the  workshops  were  idle,  with  toys  scarce  begun, 
Which,  unless  something  happened,  would  never  be  done. 
Poor  Santa  Claus  groaned,  "  Oh,  just  think  how  forlorn ! 
Not  a  toy  in  the  stockings  this  next  Christmas  morn." 
As  he  thought  how  distressed  the  poor  children  would  be, 
He  sat  down  and  wept  so  'twas  pity  to  see. 


HE   SAT    DOWN    AND 


BLUBBER    BILL 


Now  the  trouble  began  in  the  impudent  pate 

Of  a  stranger  whose  badge  bore  the  word  "  Delegate  " ; 

Though  the  fellow  had  started  from  Fargo  for  Nome 

He  had  blundered  instead  up  to  Santa  Claus'  home. 

There  he  said  to  the  workmen,  "  To  get  what  you  like 

All  you  have  to  do,  my  dear  gents,  is  to  strike. 

Now  suppose  that  instead  of  six  candles  a  day 

You  ask  ten  long  tallows  for  regular  pay." 

Their  expression  of  joy  was  a  wonder  to  see. 

"  Gluggy  blob !  "  cried  they  all  (and  that  means  "  we  agree  "). 

Blubber  Bill,  the  fat  foreman,  was  sent  by  the  hands 

To  inform  Santa  Claus  of  their  new-formed  demands. 

"  Why,  bless  me !  "  cried  Santa,  "  I  have  stored  away 

Only  tallow  enough  for  six  candles  a  day ; 

I'd  gladly  give  more  if  I  had  it  to  give — " 

"  Ten  candles  or  nothing,"  said  Bill,  "  as  I  live ! " 


So  that's  how  it  happened,  as  mentioned  before, 

That  Santa  Claus  wept  by  his  ice-covered  door ; 

While  his  workmen  were  sleeping,  or  gone  far  away 

To  snowball  the  Peary  explorers  for  play. 

But  old  Mother  Goose  has  a  mind  of  her  own — 

(She  is  Santa  Claus'  wife,  as  perhaps  you  have  known)  ; 

She  had  puzzled  and  schemed  since  the  trouble  began, 

And  finally  hit  on  a  wonderful  plan. 

"  Eureka,  old  Santy !  "  she  sung  out  in  glee, 

"  We'll  save  Christmas  yet, — you  just  listen  to  me ! 

While  I  know  that  your  toys  must  always  be  made 

By  hands  that  are  human,  you  have  fairy  aid 


"l'U.  GET  YOU    SOME    HANOI ' 


In  guiding  their  fingers,  likewise,  when  you  leave 
The  millions  of  gifts  everywhere  Christmas  Eve; 
From  your  list  of  bad  children,  the  fairies  and  I 
Will  get  you  some  hands  in  the  twink  of  an  eye." 


That  night  naughty  children  were  taken  from  bed 
And  whisked  'way  up  North  to  be  workmen  instead. 
With  the  coming  of  dawn  they  flew  back  through  the  sky 
Each  woke  in  his  bed  with  a  yawn  and  a  sigh. 
But  none  could  remember  the  place  where 

they'd  been, 
Or  the  wonderful  things  they  had  done  and 

had  seen. 
Each  night  some  more  children  were  brought 

to  the  shops 
Where  they  turned  out  tin  soldiers,  dolls, 

engines,  and  tops. 
"  It's  making  them  better,"  quoth  Santa  Claus, 

"  that's 
The  best  of  the  scheme  with  these  ill-tempered 

brats ; 
The  trouble  is,  most  of  them  always  were 

drones; 
Hard  work  takes  the  badness  right  out  of  the 


bones!" 


EACH    NIGHT    SOME    MORE    CHILDREN    WERE 


HUT    STARTED    HIM    RUNNING 


When  the  Eskimos  saw  what  had  happened  they  stared, 
For  such  an  arrangement  they  were  not  prepared. 
Then  cried  Blubber  Bill,  "  Let's  get  back  to  our  job." 
Again  all  the  workmen  exclaimed  "  Gluggy  blob !  " 
So  when  Santy  prepared  for  his  round-the-world  ride 
The  toys  were  all  finished,  with  plenty  beside. 
And  the  Delegate?    Well,  he  got  all  he  deserved; 
They  started  him  running;  he  never  once  swerved, 
But  he  kept  straight  ahead  till  he  crossed  into  Maine, 
Where  he  told  me  this  story  one  day  on  the  train. 


So  when  you  awake  with  the  thought  "  My,  how  queer ! 
I've  been  dreaming  all  night,  but  nothing  is  clear 
When  I  try  to  remember."    It's  likely  that  you 
Have  been  busy  with  Santa  Claus'  toy-makers  too. 


the  bro&d  river  «j\d  far,  far 
Over  the  hills  so  sombre  and  ^rocv, 
:re^3  a.  pKce  where  the  sun  shines  all  of 


that  is  the  ijttle  ©ne's 


And  the  h&iry  toy 

--**  "  •  - 


k  animals  winder 
s*  dollies  can  talk^  sing  and  shout^ 
docjs  thai  run  in  a.nd 


octt 


tinvoond  the  wooden  ones»too, 


>  marching  along,  down  the  rowis*  two  by  two, 
drill  Mid  they  camp,  &nd  wh^tdont  they  do 
i  the  wonderful  Uttle  ©ne's  |^nd  i 


©rxe' 

\ou  may  walk  through  the  forests  AS  iaar  &s  j^ou.  pte*.^ 
*  gut  you'll  find  only^vyly  decked  (|rislmd.s  trees 
j|jl  loaded  wilh  play thlntfa  thai  swrn^  In  iKe 
^ftlhich  blows  overMle  One's  &d.v^ 


|ne fences  are  built  up  of  peppermint  creams, 

Sweet  lemonade  flows  from  the  springs  to  the  streams 
$nd  chocoUte  bubbles  from  c&verns.it  seems. 
In  the  MHa  of  the  little  @ne»s  l^nd. 


put  the  best  tKWof  allthe  dood      .  __ 

Of  the  fairy- like  band,  where  plum-c^ke  "h  bre<^ 

|s  tha.1  children  are  never  sent  early  to  bed 
In  tha,t  wonderful  J^ttle  ©ne»^  ^r\d« 

Howlwishlcouldthmkdfsome  puct..^, 
lb  find  the  lost  md  I  I  will  if 
ithinklsh^l^k  the 


The  way  to  the 


^ph 


A  POEM   FOR  ARBOR  DAY 

WHAT  TREES  SPEAK  ? 


MY  bark  is  rough,  my  wood  is  strong, 
My  prickly  burrs  enclose 
The  fruit  which  children  love  to  find 
When  frosty  tempest  blows. 


I  build  the  ships  so  stout  and  strong, 

I  live  unto  great  age ; 
I  feed  the  Yuletide  mistletoe, 
\nd  shine  on  history's  page. 


JUM^JSmfaftftfiMCi 


O'ertopping  high  the  lordly  oak, 

In  green  I  always  stand 
And,  trimmed  with  lights  at  Christmas 
time, 

Send  joy  throughout  the  land. 


The  sap  that  runs  along  my  trunk, 

Is  plenteous  and  sweet, 
And  turns  into  a  sugar  brown 

When  warmed  by  woodfire  heat 


I'm  noted  for  my  stately  grace, 

My  bark  is  ashy  gray; 
My  wood  is  hard  and  closely  grained, 

The  wheelwright  owns  my  sway. 


In  Solomon's  temple  I  was  used, 
The  Arabs  love  me  well ; 

My  red  wood  is  most  durable, 
My  grandeur  all  can  tell. 


Pale-faced  and  restless  are  my  leaves, 

Alert  to  lightest  breeze. 
Of  rapid  growth,  I  soon  outstript 

The  more  deliberate  trees. 


The  sabots  and  the  wooden  shoes 
Which  peasant  children  wear 

Are  made,  in  France,  of  my  stout  wood, 
Which  holds  no  moisture  there. 


I  am  a  forest  beauty  and 

My  form  is  straight  and  slight 
And  many  an  Indian's  swift  canoe 

My  light  bark  covers  tight. 


The  archers  looked  to  me  of  yore 
To  make  their  mighty  bows, 

And  plucked  me  from  the  windy  dales 
Where  hard  wood  often  grows. 

CHARLOTTE  BREWSTER  JORDAU 


LITTLE  GIRL'S  ODD 
COLLECTION 

By  M1LLICENT  OLMSTEAD 

|  HEN  Genevieve  started  to  Eng- 
land last  year  with  her  mother 
and  two  brothers,  she  felt  quite 
distressed  because  she  had  not 
planned  anything  to  collect.  Bob,  you 
see,  was  collecting  stamps;  and  Alfred 
post-cards.  On  being  interviewed  about 
collecting,  mother  said  that  Genevieve 
might  collect  anything  she  liked,  provided 
it  did  not  cost  more  than  her  own  pocket 
money  could  buy  and  did  not  take  up  more 
room  in  the  trunks  than  the  stamp  and 
post-card  albums. 

So  you  may  imagine  that  the  little  girl 
felt  rather  discouraged.  Foreign  dolls, 
souvenir  spoons,  pretty  bits  of  china — all 
such  things  were  clearly  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. 

It  was  the  stateroom  steward  on  the 
•teamer  who  decided  for  her  finally,  when 
he  was  busy  in  their  room  one  day  and 
found  Genevieve  sitting  dejectedly  on  the 
edge  of  the  steamer  trunk,  considering  the 
subject  of  collections. 

He  began  to  chat  with  her  and  at  last 
****-  "xchanged  names  and  residences. 


"  Mine's  Genevieve  Alicia  Palmer,  Cleve- 
land, Ohio,  United  States  of  America,"  she 
announced. 

"Mine's  Gotobed,"  said  the  friendly 
steward. 

Genevieve  promptly  demanded  the  spell- 
ing of  it,  and  when  he  spelled  Go-to-bed 
very  distinctly,  she  could  not  help  laughing 
and  commenting  quite  rudely:  "What  a 
queer  name ! " 

Mr.  Gotobed  was  not  in  the  least  of- 
fended by  the  exclamation,  which  he  evi- 
dently expected.  "  But  that's  nothin',  miss, 
to  what  you'll  find  at  'ome — in  England,  I 
mean.  You'll  find  many  other  queerish 
names  if  you'll  only  look  out  for  'em. 
Now  I  knows  a  man  whose  name  is  Cake- 
bread,  and  'is  father's  a  baker, — been 
bakers  for  generations.  And  there's  Port- 
wine,  the  butcher;  and  Dr.  Coffin,  who 
practices  in  Peopleton,  where  I  was  born. 
You  just  keep  your  eyes  open,  little  ladyf 
and  you'll  see." 


"Oh,  thank  you  / "  said  Genevievt. 

Upon  arriving  in  London,  Genevieve's 
first  purchase  was  a  pretty  little  note-book, 
bound  in  red  Russia  leather,  with  a  place 
for  a  pencil  in  the  side.  Each  night  she 
wrote  down  in  it  the  names  she  had  col- 
lected that  day,  and  when  she  came  home 
the  little  book  was  nearly  full.  She  de- 
clares she  had  more  fun  with  her  collection 
than  the  boys  had  with  theirs.  It  cost 
people  nothing  to  tell  the  little  girl  the  odd 
names  they  knew ;  in  fact,  it  amused  them 
to  do  it.  The  top  of  a  London  'bus  was  a 
grand  place  from  which  to  spy  all  the 
signs ;  and  every  newspaper  and  book  af- 
forded her  material,  so  that  Genevieve 
pursued  her  hobby  with  zest. 

She  thought  the  name  of  an  organist, 
Mr.  W.  Field  Flower,  very  quaint,  and 
classed  it  with  that  of  Miss  Pansy  and  A. 
W.  Poppy.  Everybody  who  goes  to  Lon- 
don knows  the  odd  firm  of  Giddy  and 
Giddy,  real  estate  agents,  and  the  frivolous 
title  does  not  seem  to  have  imperiled  their 
success  in  business.  "  Strong-i'-th'-arm  " 
is  a  famous  goldsmith's  house  in  London, 
too. 

The  Messrs.  Cutbush  proved  to  be  a  firm 
of  landscape  gardeners  who  displayed 
various  figures  of  cocks,  hens,  lambs,  pea- 
cocks, etc.,  cut  out  of  box-bush. 

A  grocery  shop  that  Genevieve  collected 
somewhere  had  the  sign  "  Dear  &  Sons  " 
over  the  door,  and  as  "  dear  "  in  England 
means  expensive,  Genevieve  felt  little  con- 
fidence in  the  justness  of  their  prices;  but 
another  grocery  conducted  by  Losemore 
was  even  less  to  her  liking.  She  kept  her 
pennies  to  buy  chocolate  and  sweet  biscuits 
from  the  shop  of  Mr.  L.  Greatbatch. 

In  a  little  old,  old  volume  where  every 
$  was  an  /  she  discovered  this  quaintly 
humorous  advertisement  of  a  book :  " '  The 
Beauties  of  History;  or  Pictures  Drawn 


from  Real  Life,'  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Stretch,** 
and  wondered  if  anyone  had  ever  called  it 
a  "  stretch  of  the  imagination." 

One  of  her  greatest  favorites  was  the 
name  of  a  widely  known  surgeon-dentist 
near  Banbury,  Mr.  J.  Shipley  Slipper. 
She  loved  to  get  the  boys  to  say  it  over 
very  fast,  five  times  running,  and  hear 
their  tongues  trip  over  the  Slippery  Ship- 
ley. She  also  especially  liked  Mr.  Freder- 
ick Steptoe  ("I  think  he  must  be  a  dancing 
teacher,"  she  confided  to  her  mother),  Mr. 
C.  Yells,  and  Mr.  Finefrock. 

On  her  way  down  the  Thames  she  found 
that  Mr.  Bossom  was  in  charge  of  the  sand 
scows  dredging  at  different  points.  And 
have  I  mentioned  Mr.  Gosling  the  poul- 
terer, and  the  shop  of  Rabbits  &  Sons, 
that  Genevieve  also  added  to  her  col- 
lection ? 

Some  interested  friends  assured  her  that 
a  Dr.  Death  had  once  been  a  physician  at 
St.  Mary's  Hospital,  and  these  same 
friends  had  been  attended  by  Mr.  Jaw,  a 
dentist. 

Pinecoffm  is  the  name  of  a  well-known 
old  family  of  Devonshire.  Mr.  Voice  is 
a  watch  and  clock  maker  at  Evesham.  A. 
Trout  was  a  school  manager;  and  a  Miss 
Wiseman,  very  properly,  a  schoolma'am. 
At  Ventnor,  on  the  Isle  of  Wight,  Mr. 
Digweed  was  a  photographer. 

Samuel  Guest,  Mr.  Household,  W.  Sal- 
mon, Mr.  Sidebottom,  Mr.  Such,  Mr. 
Cattle,  and  Mr.  Sarah  were  other  names 
that  went  in  between  the  red  leather  covers, 
and  when  Genevieve  pulled  forth  her  little 
book  to  give  us  specimens  from  her  collec- 
tion, no  one  doubted  that  she  had  enjoyed 
every  minute  spent  in  making  it. 

"  It  cost  me  only  one-and-six,  and  I  can 
put  it  all  in  my  very  own  pocket,  mamma ; 
and  that  is  more  than  the  boys  can  say,0 
she  crowed  exultantly. 


THE  FOOLISH   LITTLE  GIRL 

By  GEORGE  PHILLIPS 


ONE  time  there  was  a  foolish  girl, 
Who  worried  all  the  day 
For  fear  the  sun  should  come  too  close 

And  burn  the  earth  away ; 
For  fear  the  stars  should  leave  their  homes 

And  tumble  from  the  sky ; 
For  fear  the  moon  should  draw  the  tides 
A  little  bit  too  high! 


She  quite  forgot  to  ieed  the  cat 

And  shut  the  pantry  doorfc 
Because  she  was  so  occupied 

In  worrying  some  more. 
And  then  she  worried  dreadfully 

For  what  she  hadn't  done, 
While  thinking  of  the  sea  and  stars 

And  bothering  'bout  the  SUQ. 


And  while  she  thought,  she  never  heard 

Her  busy  father  say : 
0 1  wonder  if  there's  anyone 

Could  mend  my  gloves  to-day?" 
And  dreaming  of  the  stars,  she  stood 

Nor  heard  her  mother  call, 
"  Ok,  daughter !  fetch  the  broom  at  once 

And  come  and  sweep  the  hall." 


And  wasn't  she  a  foolish  child 

To  worry  all  the  day, 
When,  if  she  hadn't  worried  so, 

Her  fears  had  flown  away? 
For  if  she'd  left  the  skies  alone, 
She  might  have  swept  the  hall 
And  mended  gloves  and  fed  the  cat. 

And  had  no  fear  at  all. 


I  HEN  the  father  of  Chung  and 
Choy  returned  from  the  big  city 
where  lived  their  uncle,  he 
brought  each  of  his  little  girls 
a  present  of  a  pretty  painted  porcelain 
cup  and  saucer.  Chung's  was  of  the  blue 
of  the  sky  after  rain,  and  on  the  blue 
were  painted  a  silver  crane  and  a  bird 
with  a  golden  breast.  Choy's  cup  was  of 
a  milky  pink  transparency,  upon  which 
light  bouquets  of  flowers  appeared  to  have 
been  thrown ;  so  beautiful  in  design,  form 
and  color  that  there  seemed  nothing  in 
it  to  be  improved  upon.  Yet  was  Choy 
discontented  and  envied  her  sister,  Chung, 
the  cup  of  the  blue  of  the  sky  after  rain. 
Not  that  she  vented  her  feelings  in  any  un-» 
seemly  noise  or  word.  That  was  not 
Choy's  way.  But  for  one  long  night  and 
ooe  long  day  after  the  pretty  cups  had  been 


brought  home  did  Choy  remain  mute  and 
still,  refusing  to  eat  her  meals  or  to  move 
from  the  couch  upon  which  she  had 
thrown  herself  at  sight  of  her  sister's  cup. 
Choy  was  sulking. 

On  the  evening  of  the  long  day  little 
Chung,  seated  on  her  stool  by  her  mother's 
side,  asked  her  parent  to  tell  her  the  story 
of  the  picture  on  the  vase  which  her  father 
had  brought  from  the  city  for  her  mother. 
It  was  a  charming  little  piece  of  china  of  a 
deep  violet-velvet  color,  fluted  on  top  with 
gold  like  the  pipes  of  an  organ,  and  in  the 
center  was  a  pagoda  enameled  thereon  in 
gold  and  silver.  Chung  knew  that  there 
must  be  a  story  about  that  pagoda,  for  she 
had  overheard  her  father  tell  her  mother 
that  it  was  the  famous  crocodile  pagoda. 

"  There  are  no  crocodiles  in  the  picture. 
Why  is  it  called  a  crocodile  pagoda?" 
asked  Chung. 

"Listen,  my  Jes'mine-flower,"  replied 
the  mother.  She  raised  her  voice,  for  she 
wished  Choy,  her  Orchid-flower,  also  to 
hear  the  story. 

"Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  big 
family  of  crocodiles  that  lived  in  a  Rip- 
pling River  by  a  beach  whose  sands  were 
of  gold.  The  young  crocodiles  had  a 
merry  life  of  it,  and  their  father  and 
mother  were  very  goo*  °nd  kind  to  them, 


But  one  day  the  young  crocodiles  wanted 
to  climb  a  hill  back  of  the  beach  of  golden 
sand,  and  the  parents,  knowing  that  their 
children  would  perish  if  allowed  to  have 
their  way,  told  them  '  Nay,  nay/ 

"  The  young  crocodiles  thereupon 
scOoped  a  large  hole  in  the  sand  and  lay 
down  therein.  For  half  a  moon  they  lived 
there,  without  food  or  drink,  and  when 
their  parents  cried  to  them  to  come  out 
and  sport  as  before  in  the  Rippling  River, 
they  paid  no  attention  whatever,  so  sadly 
sulky  their  mood. 

"  One  day  there  came  along  a  number 
of  powerful  beings,  who,  when  they  saw 
the  golden  sands  of  the  Rippling  River, 
exclaimed, '  How  gloriously  illuminating  is 
this  beach!  Let  us  build  a  pagoda 
thereon.'  They  saw  the  hole  which  the 
young  crocodiles  had  made,  but  they  could 
not  see  the  hole-makers  at  the  bottom 
thereof.  So  they  set  to  work  and  filled 
the  hole,  and  on  top  thereof  they  built  a 
great  pagoda.  That  is  the  pagoda  of  the 
picture  on  the  vase." 

"  And  did  the  children  crocodiles  never 


get  out?"  asked  Chung  in  a  sad  little 
voice. 

"  No,  daughter,"  replied  the  mother. 
"  After  the  pagoda  was  on  top  of  them 
they  began  to  feel  very  hungry  and 
frightened.  It  was  so  dark.  They  cried 
to  their  father  and  mother  to  bring  them 
food  and  find  them  a  way  to  the  light ;  but 
the  parent  crocodiles,  upon  seeing  the 
pagoda  arise,  swam  far  away.  They  knew 
that  they  never  more  should  see  their 
children.  And  from  that  day  till  now  the 
young  crocodiles  have  remained  in  dark- 
ness under  the  pagoda,  shut  off  forever 
from  the  light  of  the  sun  and  the  Rippling 
River." 

"Please,  honorable  mother,"  spake  a 
weak  little  voice,  "  may  I  have  some  tea 
in  my  pretty  pink  porcelain  cup  ?  " 


THE  SUPERVISOR'S  MISTAKE 

By  LOUISE  OCTAVIAN 


'M  coming  into  your  room  this 
morning,  girls,"  said  the  School 
Supervisor  to  his  twin  daugh- 
ters. 

"  O,  please  don't,  papa,"  said  Rena. 

"  O,  please  don't,  papa,"  echoed  Lena. 

"  Why,  children,"  said  mamma,  "  I 
should  think  you  would  love  to  have  papa 
visit  your  school." 

"  Well,  mamma,  we  would,"  said  Rena, 
"if  only  he  could  tell  us  apart.  But  he 
always  calls  upon  me  when  he  means  Lena, 
and  looks  at  Lena  and  says  '  Rena.' " 

"And  then  all  the  children  laugh,  and 
Miss  Francis  laughs,  too,  and  it's  dread- 
ful exbarrassing,"  added  Lena. 

"  But  you  must  remember,  girlies,"  said 
papa,  "that  I'm  very  near-sighted,  and 
when  you  look  exactly  alike,  and  dress 
exactly  alike " 

"  O,  papa,"  interrupted  Rena,  "  haven't 
we  told  you,  and  told  you,  and  told  you 
that  Lena  sits  next  to  the  window,  and  / 
sit  beside  the  red-headed  Murray  girl !  " 


"  Well,"  said  papa,  "  I'll  make  one  more 
effort  to  remember." 

"  I've  been  thinking,"  said  Rena  on  the 
way  to  school,  "  we  might  change  seats 
to-day,  and  then  if  papa  forgets,  it  will  be 
all  right." 

"But  what  will  Miss  Francis  say?" 
asked  Lena. 

"  She'll  never  know,"  said  Rena.  "  But, 
O,  Lena  Wells,  be  sure  you  answer  to  my 
name ! " 

Just  then  papa  whizzed  past  them  in  an 
automobile. 

"Let  us  see,  girlies,"  cried  he,  "it's 
Lena  who  sits  beside  the  red-headed  Mur- 
ray girl,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"There,"  sighed  Rena,  "I  knew  he'd 
get  it  wrong !  So  we'll  change  seats,  and 
you  answer  for  me,  and  I'll  answer  for 
you." 

Just  before  recess  Mr.  Wells  came  in, 
and  all  the  other  children  sat  up  very 
straight  and  kept  very  still.  To  them 
he  was  the  rather  stern  Sunervisor  of 


Schools,  but  to  Rena  and  Lena  he  was 
just  papa — an  absent-minded,  near-sighted 
papa,  who  was  always  getting  them  into 
trouble. 

The  class  was  reading  selections  from 
"  Hiawatha." 

"  Some  of  the  songs  from  '  Hiawatha's 
Childhood '  have  been  set  to  music,"  said 
the  Supervisor.  "  One  of  my  little  daugh- 
ters knows  them." 

He  looked  around  the  room  in  search 
of  the  two  curly  heads  adorned  with  red 
bows,  and  for  once  he  remembered  that 
Lena  sat  beside  the  window !  He  walked 
down  the  aisle,  and  patting  the  little  girl 
on  the  shoulder,  said: 

"  Stand  up,  Lena,  and  sing  '  Hia- 
watha's Lullaby.' " 

Poor  Rena,  who  couldn't  sing  three 
notes  correctly,  squirmed  desperately  in 
Lena's  seat.  O,  how  did  papa  happen  to 
remember!  And,  O,  why,  why  had  they 
changed  seats! 

"  I  can't,  papa,"  she  whispered. 


"  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  have  your 
sister  accompany  you,"  said  Mr.  Wells. 
Then  he  walked  down  the  next  aisle,  and 
stopped  in  front  of  the  other  little  twin. 
"  Rena,  go  to  the  piano,  and  play  for  your 
sister,"  said  he. 

"  I  can't,  papa,"  said  Lena. 

"  Go  to  the  piano,  my  daughter," 
said  the  Supervisor  of  Schools  very 
sternly;  and  the  little  girl  hastened  to 
obey. 

"  Now,  children,  begin  the  song,"  said 
the  Supervisor. 

Then  Lena,  who  hated  piano  practice, 
and  whose  playing  was  really  disgraceful, 
struck  two  of  the  wildest,  most  horrible 
discords,  and  poor  Rena,  who  was  unable 
to  carry  even  the  simplest  tune,  began  in 
a  funny,  quavering  voice,  two  tones  off 
the  key—"  Wah-wah-tay-see  "—then  both 
broke  down. 

Then  Miss  Francis  began  to  laugh. 

"Mr.  Wells,"  said  she,  "if  you  will 
send  Rena  to  the  piano,  and  ask  Lena  to 


AUTHE  CHU.DH*H   SM  MF  VCTV  3TK/UWIV 


sing,  I  think  the  result  will  be  more  satis- 
factoiy  " 

How  everyone  laughed! 

Then  Rena  went  to  the  piano,  and  from 
her  flexible  little  fingers  the  accompani- 
ment rippled  gently,  and  Lena,  in  her 
sweet,  clear  soprano,  sang: 

"  '  Wah-wah-tay-see,  little  fire  fly, 
Little,  flitting,  white-fire  insect, 
Little,  dancing,  white-fire  creature, 
Light  me  with  your  little  candle, 
Ere  upon  my  bed  I  lay  me, 
Ere  in  sleep  I  close  my  eyelids ! ' " 

After  school  Rena  and  Lena  told  Miss 
Francis  why  they  had  changed  seats. 

"  It's  dreadful  to  be  twins,"  said  Lena. 

"It's  dreadful  to  have  your  papa  a 
Supervisor"  said  Rena. 


"I  think  it  must  be!"  laughed  Miss 
Francis. 


HER  REASONS 


sometimes  when  folks  would  say,  "  Don't 
touch !  "  "  Don't  listen,  run  along !  " 

Or,  when  I  had  been  naughty  and  every- 
thing went  wrong, 

I'll  whisper  you  a  secret — I  used  to  really 
wish 

I  wasn't  bora  a  little  girl,  but  just  L  bird 
or  fish. 

Or  else  a  little  kitty-cat,  with  one  black 
coat  or  fur 

(For  when  I'm  all  dressed  up  so  clean, 
I'm  most  afraid  to  stir). 

But  when  I  think  about  it  now  I  really 
don't  wish  that, 

I  truly  wouldn't  like  to  be  the  daughter 
of  a  cat ! 

I  used  to  wish  I  was  a  bird,  so  I  could 
fly  and  sing, 


And  never  be  obliged  to  dust,  or  sew,  or 

anything. 
But  then,  I  just  remembered  what  the 

birdies  feed  on,  ugh ! 
I  really  couldn't  live  on  worms,  or  even 

bugs,  could  you? 
To  be  a  fish  would  be  as  bad;  I've  thought 

of  flowers,  too. 
But,  surely,  they  can't  have  much  fun,  just 

staying  where  they  grew. 
And  I  can  run,  and  jump,  and  laugh,  and 

eat  the  nicest  things! 
Then  there's  the  doll  and  playhouse;  the 

rowboat  and  the  swings. 
So  I  say,  "'Member,  Helen,"  when  I'm 

feeling  cross  or  sad, 
"  'Cause  you  were  born  a  little  girl,  you'd 

better  just  be  glad  1 " 


CHRISTMAS  SONG 

OING  a  song  of  Christmas,  the  good  time  is  here; 
^    \V*?lcome,  cheery  Yule-tide,  once  every  year : 
Trees  bright  with  candles,  stockings  full  of  toys, 
Boxes  full  of  bon-bons,  hearts  full  of  joys. 

Let  the  happy  bells  ring !    Blow,  bugles,  blow ! 
Let  the  nimble  bob-sleds  glide  o'er  the  snow; 
Set  the  Christmas  table,  cut  the  Christmas  pie ; 
Tell  the  Christmas  story  'round  the  fire,  by  and  by. 

Don't  forget  the  poor  folks  who  have  less  than  we; 
They  love  the  good  things,  too,  we  must  agree ; 
Share  your  toys  and  candy,  pudding  and  the  rest 
On  a  jolly  Christmas,  sharing  is  the  best. 


THE  STORKS,  THEY  KNOW 

ONCE  a  jolly  and  wise  old  stork,  they  say, 
Flew  out  of  his  nest  in  the  far-away, 
And  traveled  on  wing  for  a  week  and  a  day—- 
This jolly  and  wise  old  stork. 

And  turning  His  sensible  head  askew, 
He  gazed  and  he  peered,  as  a  stork  will  do, 
To  discover  what  place  he  was  coming  to — 
This  sensible,  queer  old  stork. 

Then  he  circled  around,  now  high,  now  low, 
For  grandmas  will  tell  you  that  storks  they  know 
Just  as  well  as  folks  where  they  ought  to  go — 
These  curious,  wise,  old  storks. 

Now  that  dear  old  stork  had  a  big  surprise, 
As  you  might  have  guessed  from  the  look  in  his  eyes ; 
He  said  not  a  word,  but  he  did  look  wise — 
That  long-legged,  dear,  old  stork. 

He  flew  past  the  mansion  upon  the  hill ; 
The  night  was  dark  and  the  air  was  chill ; 
And  the  locked  iron  gates  were  cold  and  still. 
"  No  children  in  here,"  sighed  the  stork. 

A  cottage  he  passed  where  the  roof  was  low ; 
"  They  are  happy  in  there,"  said  the  stork,  "  I  knowr 
For  I  brought  them  a  wee  one  a  month  ago. 
Ah  me  1    I'm  a  happy  stork." 

Then  he  sailed  right  down  to  our  chimney-top, 
He  bounced  to  the  ground  with  an  easy  hop, 
For  he  knew,  he  knew  where  he  was  to  stop— - 
This  welcome,  delightful  stork. 


BEAU  GRIMALKIN'S  SLEIGH   RIDE 

By  CULMER   BARNES 


BEAU    TAKES    MISS    FUSSYKIN    OUT    IN    HIS    CUTTEt    WITH    HIS  SPIRITED    NEW    TEAM    OF    MICE 


BEAU    FINW   THEM    NOT    »O    EASY   TO    HANDLE   A8    HE   THOUGHT 


AHD    HAD   HAS   TO    DRAG  TM  CUTTM— AMD    MIS8   FCMYDW--HOM« 


THE    PROFESSIONAL 
UMPIRE  AND  MASCOT- 
KEEPER 


By 
LEE  McCRAE 


[  ASEBALL  was  the  chief  delight 
of  Max  Oliver's  life,  and  Pep- 
per was  his  chief  comfort.  It 
was  not  at  all  queer  that  he 
should  love  the  ugly  little  dog  so  much, 
for  Max  had  a  bad  knee  that  kept  him 
from  walking,  and  Pepper,  strangely 
enough,  had  been  born  with  only  three  legs 
instead  of  four.  But  it  was  queer  that  he 
should  care  so  much  for  baseball  when  he 
had  never  seen  a  real  game  in  his  life. 

Max  and  his  mother  lived  all  alone  in  a 
two-room  house  with  a  "  lean-to,"  almost 
in  the  shadow  of  the  grand-stand  of  the 
city  baseball  park.  Almost  every  day  dur- 
ing the  season  throngs  of  people  came 
crowding  past,  hurrying  into  the  park  to  get 
good  seats,  and  hurrying  out  again  to  get 
any  sort  of  seats  in  the  street  cars. 

Mrs.  Oliver  was  too  busy  to  pay  much 
attention  to  them.  She  sewed  for  the  gov- 
ernment, and  the  piles  of  coarse  cloth  that 
came  in,  and  the  dozens  and  dozens  and 
dozens  of  overalls  that  went  out,  took  all 
her  time  and  thought. 

But  Max  had  plenty  of  time,  more  than 
he  knew  what  to  do  with,  when  it  wasn't 
a  baseball  day.  When  it  was,  he  and  Pep- 
per would  crawl  close  to  the  fence  where 
a  broken  paling  made  a  fine  window  for 
their  small  faces.  To  watch  the  people 
going  in  was  some  fun ;  to  see  them  stand- 
ing up  on  the  top  row  of  the  bleachers, 
waving  hats  and  umbrellas,  and  to  hear 
*he  glorious  Celling — this  was  better  still. 


At  such  times  Max  would  "  holler "  as 
loud  as  he  could,  and  Pepper  would  bark 
joyfully,  for  then  they  knew  that  the  home 
team  was  ahead.  Best  of  all  were  the 
brief  moments  when  the  crowd  surged  out 
and  past  the  fence  corner,  for  by  listening 
intently  Max  could  usually  hear  which  side 
had  won,  and  how  and  why. 

Max  was  no  greenhorn.  Although  he 
had  never  seen  the  game  played  except 
when  the  neighbor  boys  played  in  the 
street  before  his  house,  he  had  asked  ques- 
tions until  he  thought  he  knew  all  about  it. 

There  was  one  thing  he  did  not  know, 
however :  that  a  boy  could  get  inside  by 
carrying  in  a  "  wild  ball " — one  that  had 
been  batted  over  the  fence.  Since  he 
seldom  went  oatside  his  yard  he  had  never 
seen  it  done,  and  there  were  some  things 
the  neighboi  s  forgot  to  tell  him. 

One  day  when  the  crowd  was  immense, 
a  ball  came  flying  over  the  grand-stand 
straight  toward  his  fence  corner.  It  fell 
with  a  dull  thud  within  a  few  feet  of  him. 
The  two  cripples  crawled  eagerly  to  the 
spot  and  seized  it  with  reverent  curiosity. 
IT  was  theirs !  Theirs  to  keep  for  always. 
But  the  game  would  have  to  stop  if  IT 
wasn't  there !  No  doubt  all  the  people  in- 
side the  park  were  hunting  for  IT  that 
very  minute !  Max  tucked  IT  tight  under 
his  arm  as  he  thought  these  troublesome 
thoughts,  and  tried  to  make  himself  be 
honest.  At  last  he  decided  to  give  up  the 
treasure. 


Just  as  fast  as  he  could  he  squeezed  him- 
self through  the  broken  fence— Pepper  got 
through  without  any  difficulty— and  labor- 
iously, "on  all  threes,"  they  made  their 
way  to  the  door  through  which  Max  al- 
ways saw  the  players  go.  Too  tired  and 
excited  to  speak  when  he  reached  the  door- 
keeper, Max  simply  held  up  the  ball. 

41  Well,  that  sure  lets  you  in,"  said  the 
man  pleasantly.  "Push  to  the  front  if 
you'd  like  to  see." 

"Like  to  see!"  Think  of  it!  They 
pushed  to  the  front  so  far  that  they  stood 
outside  the  benches  of  the  home  team,  who 
happened  at  that  moment  to  be  out  in  the 
field.  Scarcely  had  Max  settled  himself 
on  a  bench  with  the  trembling  Pepper  close 
in  his  arms,  when  a  great  shouting  rose 
in  the  air. 

"Out!  Out!  Out!"  screamed  the 
fans. 

In  a  moment  the  big  red-uniformed  men 
came  trooping  toward  the  benches,  laugh- 
ing and  clapping  a  certain  curly-haired  one 
upon  the  back. 

"  Here !  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 
said  one  man  gruffly,  as  he  stumbled  over 
the  newcomers. 

As  the  two  started  to  creep  away  he 


noticed  their  helplessness  and  a'ddea  more? 
kindly,  "  Oh,  you  can  stay." 

The  men  were  all  too  happy  to  be  cross ; 
they  had  just  had  their  "first  streak  of 


LING  MADE  A  FINE  WINDOW  FOR  THEIB 


THAT  SURE  LETS  YOU  IN,       SAID  THE  MAN 
PLEASANTLY 


luck  "  during  the  game.  In  the  next  in- 
ning there  was  great  excitement — Max 
did  not  see  why  exactly — and  nobody 
noticed  him  or  Pepper.  Toward  the  last 
of  the  game,  however,  one  of  the  team  saw 
the  comical  face  of  the  little  black  dog 
peering  out  from  under  his  master's  arm, 
and  seized  him  playfully,  exclaiming : 

"Why,  hello!  What's  the  matter  with 
your  pegs  ?  " 

"  He  never  had  that  leg,"  explained  the 
proud  owner,  pointing  to  the  place  where 
the  leg  ought  to  have  been.  "  Both  of  us 
cripples  have  to  go  on  all  threes,  only  he's 
got  a  front  one  missing,  and  my  back  one's 
bad,"  slapping  the  crooked  kne«» 


MAX  HELD  UP  HIS  HANDS  IN  TERROR,  CRYING  "  OH,  H*'s  MINX  1    H*'s  ALL  l' VI  GOT  I ' 


*Too  bad,"  said  the  man  absent- 
mindedly,  his  eyes  intent  upon  the  player 
at  the  bat. 

Soon  therr  was  hurrahing  and  hurrah- 
ing. The  home  team  had,  won  and  the 
fans  were  wildly  happy.  Even  the  men 
themselves  joined  in  the  jubilee,  for  it  was 
the  first  good  playing  they  had  done  in 
some  weeks.  Everything  had  seemed  sud- 
denly to  turn  against  them,  and  now,  just 
as  suddenly,  to  turn  in  their  favor. 

"  Here's  the  mascot  that  did  it!  "  cried 
the  man  they  called  Rusty,  probably  be- 
cause of  his  red  hair.  "  See  the  three- 
legged  puppy !  He  hopped  in  here  just  as 
Oily  made  the  scrumbumptious  play  that 
set  us  all  hopping !  " 

With  that  the  poor  little  dog  was  tossed 
recklessly  from  one  to  another  until  Max 
held  up  his  hands  in  terror,  crying,  "  Oh, 
he's  mine !  He's  all  I've  got !  " 

"What's  his  name?"  asked  the 
manager. 

"  Pepper  Oliver." 

"Pepper  all  over!  Well,  he  looks  it! 
And  Pepper's  just  what  this  team  needs. 
We  put  pepper  and  hot  shot  into  those 
other  fellows  to-day,  and  we've  got  to  do 
it  to-morrow.  You  and  Pepper  can  come." 

So  Max  was  obliged  to  explain  how 
they  got  in.  The  men  looked  at  one  an- 
other, and  their  faces  took  a  friendlier  look 
as  Max  innocently  revealed  the  limitations 
of  his  life,  and  its  great  longing. 


-  Well,"  said  the  manage*,  "  we'll  hart 
Pepper  for  our  mascot  and  you  for  head- 
rooter.  Show  us  where  you  live.  Oh, 
over  there.  Come,  boys,  let's  carry  them 
home." 

And  so  with  great  ceremony  Max  and 
Pepper  were  carried  home  tc  the  wonder- 
ing mother,  who  dropped  her  work  for 
once  and  came  to  the  door  to  see  what  the 
noise  was  about. 

Thus  it  was  that  Pepper  became  a  valued 
member  of  the  National  Baseball  League. 
Of  course  in  his  high  position  he  had  to 
"  go  on  the  road  "  with  the  red  men,  and 
at  such  times  Max  had  to  play  alone  in 
his  fence  corner.  But  every  now  and  then 
he  would  put  a  fat  pay  envelope  into  his 
mother's  lap,  the  salary  Pepper  earned, 
and  what  the  owner  was  promised  for  his 
"  keep."  Max  often  wondered  how  Pep- 
per could  earn  that  much,  but  of  course  the 
baseball  men  knew  more  about  such  things 
than  did  he. 

Best  of  all,  when  Christmas  came  Santa 
Claus  sent  Max  a  pair  of  crutches  with 
red  bands  painted  on  them  in  honor  of  his 
team,  and  while  crutches  are  fine  things 
to  walk  on,  they  are  finer  than  any  umbrella 
to  wave  when  your  men  win.  Proud  as 
he  was  of  them,  he  was  prouder  still  of  the 
shingle  sign  which  Rusty  made  and  nailed 
upon  the  gate-post.  In  big  red  printed 
letters  it  said,  "  Max  Oliver,  Professional 
Umpire  and  Mascot-Keeper." 


THE    SUNSHINE  MEADOW 

/~\N  Grandpa's  farm  there  is  a  sunshine  meadow, 
And  broad  and  bright  against  the  hill  it  lies; 
The  brown  bees  know  it  and  come  swiftly  flying 
To  fipd  such  sweetness  under  summer  skies. 

Sometimes  the  dark  clouds  gather,  rain  drops  patter, 
A  saucy  wind  runs  whistling  up  the  lane; 

Yet  brave  and  cheerful  smiles  the  upland  meadow, 
Come  shine,  come  shadow,  scorching  heat  or  rain. 

I  like  to  wander  in  this  happy  meadow, 
And  pick  the  sunshine,  all  my  hands  can  hold, 

Then  hasten  home,  a  Midas  *  with  my  treasure, 
.With  airy  buttercups  like  purest  gold. 

ALIX  THORN. 


TROUBLE  IN  THE  TREE-TOP 

"T    ITTLE  Bird,  Mother  Bird,  why  in  Yesterday    my    little    ones    heard    Miss 

*-*  such  a  flurry  ?  "  Betty  cry  1 

"We   must    move,    Father    Bird,— move  Spoke  about  the  *  funny  noise,'— they'll 

right  in  a  hurry !  "  be  sure  to  try  1 

"  Mother  Bird,  Mother  Bird,  what  can  be  All  my  little  darling  birds  say  '  I  won't ' 

the  matter  ?  and  cry ! 

Are  not  all  our  children  daily  growing  Truly  'tis  enough  to  set  my  feathers  all 

fatter?  awry!" 

Has  a  cat  discovered  us  ?    Tell  me,  now,  "  Tut,  my  little  Mother  Bird,  teach  them 

pray  do!"  how  to  sing! 

"Did  you  hear  Miss  Betty?    Wouldn't  They'll  find  it  sweeter  far,  my  dear,  to 

tie  her  shoe !  make  the  bird-notes  ring. 

Said :  *  I  won't !   I  won't !   I  won't ! '   O.  Foolish  little  Mother  Bird.    Now  who- 

Father,  Father  Bird,  ever  heard 

K  cannot  have  my  children  learn  such  a  Any  little  singing  bird   say  a  naughty 

dreadful  word !  word  ?  " 

ELIZABETH  JAMT«ON. 

*  MidM  WM  the  king  who  loved  fold  better  than  anything  on  eutfa. 


NOTHING   TO    DO  I 


A  CORNER 

IN 
BABIES 

By  STACY  E.  BAKER 


ND,  once  upon  a  time,  in  the 
long,  long  ago,  O  Little  Tot, 
there  was  a  Great  Monstrous 
Man  who  had  more  pennies  than 
you — even  you,  O  Little  Tot — have  in  your 
Great,  Monstrous  Bank,  and  he  shook  his 
lots  and  lots  of  pennies  in  the  faces  of  the 
Other  People,  and  he  said,  "  Lo  and  be- 
hold !  I  have  cornered  all  the  Bright  and 
Handsome  and  Good-looking  Pennies  and 
you  have  none  left  with  which  to  buy  All- 
day  Suckers — and  what  are  you  going  to 
do  about  it?" 

And  the  Other  People  jeered  and  said: 
"Huh!  You  may  have  all  your  Bright 
and  Handsome  and  Good-looking  Pennies, 
O  Great  and  Monstrous  Man,  but  you 
haven't  any  Babies !  " 

And  he  thought,  and  thought,  and 
thought. 

And  then,  O  Little  Tot,  nobody  heard 
from  the  Great,  Monstrous  Man  for  days, 
and  weeks,  and  months,  and  years;  and 
they  were  just  glad,  I  can  tell  you. 

But  "  bimeby "  Someone  went  to  the 
Medicine  Man  and  said,  "  O,  Medicine 
Man,  I  am  badly  in  need  of  a  Baby,  and 
you  let  me  have  the  Other  Ones  so 
Awfully  and  Exquisitely  Cheap 


that  I  have  come  back  to  you  for  a  Girl- 
baby  that  will  not  Bite  nor  Growl  at 
Strangers." 

And  the  Medicine  Man  he  gave  a  sad, 
slow  shake  of  his  head,  and  all  his  gray 
hair  fell  'round  and  'bout  his  feet,  and  he 
told  him,  "  Alas,  and  likewise  alack,  and 
other  things,  but  I  have  no  more  Girl- 
babies,  for  the  Great  and  Monstrous  Man 
came,  and  gave  one  half  of  his  Bright  and 
Handsome  and  Good-looking  Pennies,  and 
took  them  all  away." 

And  "  bimeby  "  Another  Person  came  to 
the  Medicine  Man  and  said,  "  O,  Medicine 
Man,  I  am  badly  in  need  of  a  Baby,  and  you 
let  me  have  the  Other  Ones  so  Wondrously 
and  so  Outrageously  Cheap  that  I  have 
come  back  to  you  for  a  Boybaby  that  will 
not  Snap  nor  Snarl  at  Company." 

And  the  Medicine  Man  gave  a  quick, 
sharp  shake  of  his  head,  and  his  whiskers, 
which  were  done  up  in  little  curl  papers, 
fell  'round  and  'bout  his  feet,  and  he  said, 
"  Alas,  and  alack,  and  other  things,  but  I 
have  no  more  Boybabies,  for  the  Great  and 
Monstrous  Man  came,  and  gave  one  half 
of  his  Bright  and  Handsome  and  Good- 
looking  Pennies,  and  took  them  all  away  to 
his  Nice  and  Starshiny  Castle." 


WHEM  ONCE  HE  USED  TO  HAVE  HIS 
BREAD-AND-MILr  SERVED  ALL  8TILL 
AWDBUIET.NOWrr  WAS  SERVED  MOST 
*OWDYI«  AND  AWFUL 


And  "  bimeby  "  Other  People  came,  and 
'cause  the  Medicine  Man  hadn't  any  more 
Girlbabies  who  wouldn't  Bite  nor  Growl  at 
Strangers,  or  any  more  Boybabies  who 
wouldn't  Snap  nor  Snarl  at  Company,  he 
gave  them  Each  and  Every  One  a  double 
handful  of  Pennies,  and  Everybody  went 
away  all  Smily-like. 

For  you  see,  O  Little  Tot,  that  they  all 
had  more  or  less  Boybabies,  and  they  all 
had  more  or  less  Girlbabies,  but  none  of 
them  had  any  Bright,  and  Handsome,  and 
Good-looking  Pennies. 

And  the  Great,  Monstrous  Man  in  his 
Nice  and  Starshiny  Castle  laughed,  and 
laughed,  and  laughed.  And  "  bimeby,"  he 
thought,  and  thought,  and  thought,  for  you 


see,  O  Little  Tot,  that  where  once  he  used 
to  have  his  Bread-and-Milk  served  all  Still 
and  Quiet,  now  it  was  served  most  Rowdy- 
ish  and  Awful,  and  where  he  used  to  have, 
O,  lots  and  lots  of  Cake  and  Pie,  •now  he 
couldn't  have  one  Weeny,  Teeny  bk,  for 
Cake  and  Pie,  O  Little  Tot,  is  most  sudden 
and  fearsome  for  Girlbabies  and  Bov- 
babies. 

And  so  he  thought,  and  thought,  and 
thought. 

And  "bimeby"  Somebody  was  going 
down  the  street,  and  they  stopped  and  read 
this  which  was  tacked  to  a  tree : 

"TO  THE  OTHER  PEOPLE 

On,  or  about,  as  soon  as  I  can, 
I  agree  to  deliver  one  Boybaby 
or  one  Girlbaby  (which  are  most 
shocking  rude  and  eat  with  their 
knives  and  forks  most  horribly!) 
to  anyone  who  wants  them.    And 
when  shall  I  bring  them  ?  " 

And  the  Great,  Monstrous  Man's  name 
was  signed  at  the  bottom. 

And  Everybody  took  Wheelbarrows, 
and  Bushelbaskets,  and  Ice-tongs,  and 
went  and  got  all  the  Boybabies,  and  the 
Girlbabies ;  and  'cause  the  Great  and  Mon- 
trous  Man  didn't  have  to  bring  them 
around,  he  was  just  glad. 

And  the  moral  of  this,  O  Little  Tot,  is 
"  Don't  believe  all  you  hear !"  , 


MOTHER  RABBIT  DYES  THE  EGGS 


WHO'LL  GET  THE  PRETTIEST  ONE? 


The  world  is  gay 

With  crocus  guests; 
In  purple,  gold, 

And  white  they're  dressed; 

Come  out,  come  out 

And  see  the  show — 
All  a-peeping 

Through  the  snow ! 

AMANDA  BARKIS. 


Too  early,  Robin 

Built  her  nest, 
And  then  what 

Think  you?    O, 

Instead  of  warm, 

Warm  little  fluffs, 
Inside  were — 

Flakes  of  snow! 

AMANDA  BARKIS* 


Worrying 


hi?  troubles, 


THE  MERRY  MARCH  HARE 

By  LATIMER  J.  WILSON 


What's  wrong, 


little 


LVIN  was  playing  out  in  the 
yard  one  March  day  when  Big 
Breeze  came  along,  and  with- 
out saying  "by  your  leave" 
whizzed  him  this  way  and  whirled  him 
that  way  until  he  was  as  dizzy  as  a 
Junebug.  Finally  Big  Breeze  set  him 
down  in  a  large  field  where  the  grass  was 
so  tall  that  he  could  not  see  the  direction 
of  his  home,  and  so  could  not  find  his  way 
back.  Just  then  the  Merry  March  Hare 
came  along  and  exclaimed: 


"Mad 
boy?" 

Alvin  was  a  bit  frightened  at  first,  but 
the  Merry  March  Hare  was  so  polite  and 
pleasant  that  Alvin  could  not  doubt  his 
kindness;  so  he  related  what  Big  Breeze 
had  done. 

"Don't  you  care,"  said  the  Merry 
March  Hare.  "  Mount  me  and  hold  fast 
to  my  crazy  ears.  I'll  leap  you  home- 
it's  leap  year,  you  know.  All  aboard  !  " 

Alvin  mounted  his  steed  cautiously,  and 
away  they  leaped  and  bounced  and 
bounded  until  he  was  safe  at  home,  when 
the  Merry  March  Hare  disappeared. 

See  if  you  c£n  find  the  route  they  took 
over  the  field  to  the  house  in  the  distance  ; 
it  is  shown  by  one  of  the  white  spaces  in 
the  grass,  starting  at  the  Merry  March 
Hare's  right  fore  foot,  and  is  not  inter- 
rupted by  any  black  lines. 


If  ajjood  litfle  fairy  should  come  up  1o~me/?~* 
(3nd)jjive  me    a    Wish,  T  just^knou^  Wftat^tvv^bu 
Td   Wish  stead  of  one  little 


what  fd  vish.  and  do  jvjou   know  v|v\j? 

'ste^d  of  one  test  day  that  seems  to  just  fly 
Td  have  thfte  of  tese  d^ys  in  the  ^jea?:  oh  mjjl 
Oyi|  &vkes'  d®,  and  C3few  fljears,  and   ^ourfli  of 


OW  THE   B 
NAMED 


By  ETTA  ANTHONY  BAKER 


'HERE  lay  the  dear  little  baby  in 
her  pretty  white  crib,  just  like  a 
bird  in  its  nest.  Her  big  blue 
eyes  looked  up  at  the  family  as 
if  she  wondered  why  they  were  all  so  slow. 
And  slow  they  surely  were — for  the  baby 
was  two  months  old  that  very  day,  and  was 
still  without  a  name — just  think  of  that! 
Of  course  she  was  called  by  ever  so  many 
names :  "  Baby,"  "  Sweetheart,"  "  Lovey," 
"Princess  Pretty  Girl,"  "  Comfort  "  and 
"  Blessing,"  but  these  were  not  real  names ; 
not "  for  good,"  you  know. 

"  We  will  always  be  calling  her  '  Baby ' 
if  we  don't  name  her  pretty  soon,"  said 
grandma.  But  it  was  very  hard  to  choose 
among  so  many  names.  Grandpa  wanted 
''  Kate "  after  grandma,  while  grandma 
herself  liked  "Mary."  Papa  chose 
"  Alice,"  because  that  was  dear  mamma's 
narrte. 

Big  brother  begged  for  "  Mabel."  You 
see  he  was  very  fond  of  a  lovely  young 
lady  with  that  name,  and  he  wanted  to 
please  her.  Sister  asked  for  something 
"  real  stylish,"  like  "  Araminta,"  or  "  Sera- 
phina."  Two  of  her  very  best  dolls  had 
those  names.  Little  brother  wanted 
"  Kitty." 

"'Cause  then  I  can  call:  'Here, 
Kit!  Here,  Kit!  Kitty,  Kitty,  Kitty!' 
when  I  want  her  to  bring  me  things,"  he 
said. 


Mamma  herself  said  nothing  except  to 
nurse;  but  deep  down  in  her  heart  she 
longed  for  "  Dorothy."  That  was  her  own 
dear  mother's  name. 

At  last  big  brother  declared  that  they 
never  would  agree  with  so  many  names  to 
choose  from,  and  it  was  useless  to  argue 
about  it  any  longer,  so  he  said :  "  Let  us 
each  write  the  name  we  like  best  on  a  slip 
of  paper  and  drop  the  papers  into  a  hat. 
Then  mamma  can  shut  he*  eyes  and  choose 
one.  That  will  settle  the  whole  matter." 

They  all  liked  this  plan,  and  each  one  set 
to  work  to  write  the  best-liked  name.  Lit- 
tle brother  took  a  big  piece  of  paper  for  his 
so  that  mamma  would  feel  it  first,  but  big 
brother  said,  "  No,  sir !  all  the  papers  must 
be  the  same  size,  or  it  will  not  be  fair !  " 

Soon  they  were  all  written  (only  little 
brother  had  to  print  his),  and  then  the 
papers  were  folded  and  dropped  into  the 
hat  which  nurse  brought.  Papa  shook  the 
hat  hard,  to  mix  the  papers  thoroughly, 
then  he  put  it  down  on  baby's  crib,  near 
mamma's  hand,  and  said  to  the  baby: 
"  Now,  young  lady,  we're  going  to  settle 
you  this  time!" 

Baby  looked  up  in  his  face  with  a  smile 
on  the  little  rosebud  mouth,  just  as  if  she 
were  saying :  "  Such  a  fuss  over  such  a  lit- 
tle thing!  Why,  /  could  have  settled  it 
long  ago !  "  and  the  dimples  showed  in  the 
pretty  cheeks. 


iTien  the  tiny  mouth  puckered  a  bit,  as 
toe  baby  thought  of  some  of  those  names 
which  might  be  given  to  her.  She  did  not 
like  "  Araminta  " — certainly  not !  No,  nor 
"  Seraphina."  They  were  all  very  well  for 
dolls,  but  she  was  a  real  baby.  As  for 
"  Kitty,"  that  wouldn't  do  at  all ;  it  was 
entirely  too  easy,  for  little  brother  would 
be  calling  her  all  the  time.  He  liked 
people  to  wait  upon  him.  You  see,  he  had 
been  the  baby  before. 

Ye5.,  it  certainly  was  time  for  her  to  take 


"  Well,  I  declare ! "  he  said  in  a  puzzle* 
tone.  "  That  is  queer !  " 

"What,  oh,  what?"  said  the  others, 
"  Is  it  Araminta ?  "  "  Is  it  Kitty?  " 

"  No,"  said  papa  slowly,  "  it  isn't  either 
of  those  names,  nor  Alice,  nor  Mary,  nor 
Mabel.  It  is— Dorothy !" 

"  Oh !  "  said  mamma  in  surprise,  while 
her  pretty  face  flushed  all  over  with  pleas- 
ure, as  she  repeated  the  name  she  loved  so 
much.  "Dorothy!  I'm  so  glad!"  Then 
she  stopped  short  and  said :  "  But — I  don't 


BABY'S  CHOOSING!"  SHOUTED  LITTLE  BROTHER,  DANCING  UP  AND  DOWN 


a  hand  in  the  matter.  It  was  her  name,  so 
it  was  more  her  business  than  anyone's. 
The  little  dimpled  fist  waved  about  in  the 
air  for  a  moment,  then  it  shot  straight  out. 
Over  went  the  hat,  and  out  bounced  one 
little  folded  paper ! 

"  Baby's  choosing !  Baby's  choosing !  " 
shouted  little  brother,  dancing  up  and 
down.  "  Oh !  I  hope  it's  Kitty !  " 

Slowly  papa  picked  up  the  paper,  slowly 
he  unfolded  it,  while  all  the  others  held 
their  breaths.  Papa  looked  carefully  at 
the  paper,  then  held  it  closer  and  looked 
again  even  more  carefully. 


understand  it — I  didn't  put  my  name  in  at 
all!" 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  "  asked  papa  quickly. 

"  Yes,  truly,"  said  mamma,  showing  her 
own  pretty  dimples.  "  I  tried  not  to  be 
selfish,  so  I  kept  my  name  out." 

"  Now  isn't  that  funny ! "  said  little 
brother  to  nursie,  who  was  busily  folding 
pretty  white  dresses  and  tiny  blue  sacques, 
and  putting  them  away  in  the  baby's  own 
basket.  "  How  do  you  suppose  that  name 
got  in  the  hat,  nursie  ?  " 

But  nursie  only  smiled  to  herse1*  *visely. 
and  said,  "Ask  Dorothy!" 


to  MY  FRIEND,  THE 
BLUEBIRD 

GURGLE  sweetly, 
Soft  and  low, 
Dearest  bluebird, 
Breast  aglow; 
Hieing, 

Flying, 
To  and  fro ; 
Thrilling, 

Trilling, 
As  you  go. 

Friendly  ever 
To  my  home, 
Dearest  bluebird, 
Build  your  own; 
Resting, 

Nesting, 
In  this  tree; 
Fr  tting, 

Sitting, 
Nearer  me. 

'Tis  the  sweetest, 
Gentlest  note 
Rises  from  thy 
Little  throat ; 
Winning, 

Cheering, 
And  caressing; 
Restful, 

Peaceful, 
Like  a  blessing. 

JOSHUA  F.  CROWELL. 


THE  MAD  MARCH  WIND 

I  RUSH  and  I  blow: 
Then  I  lull  for  a  momeiit: 
Then  grow, 
Ho!    Ho! 
How  I  grow, 
Till  I  roar! 
More  and  more, 
Till  I  scream  1 


Then  a  growl, 
And  a  grumble ; 

A  rumble; 

A  howl! 

And  again  I  go  wild, 
Like  an  unbridled  child; 
My  locks  I  shake  out, 
I  leap  and  I  shout 

As  I  run! 

What  fun! 

Ho!    Ho! 

For  I  am  the  merry,  mad  March  Wind! 
MICHAEL  BERA. 


AFRAID  OF  A  WETTING 


A 


PRETTY  little  trout 
Was  eager  to  go  out, 
But  dearie  me!  the  sky  was  very  black; 
So  I  heard  his  mother  say, 
"  You  may  go  a  little  way, 
And  if  it  rains,  be  sure  to  hurry  back." 


TWO  BOYS  AND  A  BABY 


By  JULIA  KYLE  HILDRETH 


|  AY  sat  on  the  library  step-ladder 
and  read  from  a  book  on  his 
knee: 

"The  great  green  waves 
broke  with  a  hissing  roar  as  the  castaway 
seized  the  line  that  the  rocket  had  brought 
to  his  feet  from  the  Lapwing,  and  spring- 
ing from  one  high  boulder  to  another, 
wound  it  about  the  blackened  ribs  of  the 
half-buried  wreck.  Glancing  over  his 
shoulder  he  muttered,  '  Now  I  know  why 
he  cut  the  sail,  he  is  going  to  make  a 
cradle  or  hammock.' " 

The  door  slammed  loudly.  Ray  looked 
up  and  around  the  small  book-filled  room. 

"  Why,  Tom  must  have  gone,"  he  said 
to  himself,  and  was  soon  completely  ab- 
sorbed again  in  his  reading.  Someone 
came  along  the  hall,  turned  the  key  in  the 
library  door  and  shuffled  off,  whistling, 
but  Ray  did  not  hear  and  still  read  on. 
The  light  from  the  one  window  grew 
fainter  and  fainter,  and  finally  the  boy 
lifted  his  head  and  closed  the  book. 

"There!"  he  yawned.  "I  forgot 
where  I  was."  He  thrust  the  book  back 
on  the  shelf,  put  several  other  volumes 
carefully  in  their  places,  jumped  from  his 
high  perch,  and  took  a  general  survey  of 
the  room. 

"  Mr.  Preston  will  be  pleased — he 
wanted  it  finished  to-day,"  thought  Ray. 
Then  he  ran  his  eye  carefully  over  the 
regular  lines  of  books.  "  I  am  glad  he 
gave  Tom  and  me  charge  of  the  library. 
Tom  says  there  is  not  a  better  school 
library  in  the  city,  though  it  is  small." 
All  this  time  Ray  was  tugging  at  the  door. 

"  Why,  it's  locked,"  he  said  aloud,  giv- 
ing it  a  hard  shake. 


Ray  knocked  and  shook  and  even 
kicked  the  door  at  intervals  for  more  than 
an  hour,  then  concluded  that  everyone 
had  left  the  building. 

"  No  one  will  miss  me  until  after  nine," 
thought  Ray  disconsolately.  "Then  the 
folks  will  be  frightened  and  I  shall  be 
dreadfully  hungry."  He  turned  to  the 
window  and  glanced  out.  The  view  was 
very  limited,  for  a  long  row  of  tall  tene- 
ments shut  out  everything  else.  Though 
the  houses  were  not  quite  finished,  one 
floor  just  opposite  the  library  evidently 
was  occupied,  for  a  boy  with  a  baby  in 
his  arms  jogged  about  the  room,  while 
a  woman  prepared  something  at  the 
stove. 

Somehow  this  sight  gave  Ray  an  addi- 
tional pang  of  loneliness,  and  seating  him- 
self on  a  low  bench  he  watched  the  dark- 
ening sky  and  the  very  tall  clothes-pole 
silhouetted  against  it. 

This  pole  with  its  swaying  lines  brought 
to  his  mind  the  story  that  he  had  been 
reading,  and  that  was  responsible  for  his 
imprisonment.  Presently  he  stood  up  and 
reached  out  of  the  window.  Yes,  he  could 
easily  touch  the  line.  He  drew  it  slowly 
toward  him,  then  stopped,  for  the  boy  in 
the  opposite  house  called  out,  "  You  just 
let  that  line  alone — that's  ours." 

Ray  sat  down  again  and  once  more 
leaned  against  the  wall.  He  was  calcu- 
lating how  many  hours  must  pass  before 
he  could  hope  to  be  released,  when  his 
eyes  closed  and  he  fell  fast  asleep. 

Something  startled  him  wide  awake, 
just  as  the  guns  boomed  across  the  city. 

"  Nine  o'clock,"  said  Ray,  springing  to 
his  feet 


"now  I'M  GOING'"  SHOUTED  THE  BOY,  WHO  WAS  ALREADY  STANDING  ON  THE  WINDOW-SI*' 


"Fire!  fire!  fire!"  shouted  a  voice 
-£«'om  the  opposite  house. 

"  Hallo !  "  answered  Ray,  "  where's  the 
fire?" 

"  In  the  bed,"  replied  the  voice.  "  The 
baby  pulled  the  lamp  over,  but  she's  all 
right!" 

"  Say,"  shouted  Ray,  "  run  down  to  the 
next  corner  and  tell  the  watchman  to  send 
in  an  alarm ;  he's  got  a  key." 

"  I  can't ;  mother  locked  me  in.  You 
go — quick !  " 

"  I'm  locked  in,  too,  by  mistake,"  an- 
swered Ray.  He  could  now  see  a  bright 
light  flashing  up  and  down  the  wall  behind 
the  boy  atid  the  baby. 

"  It  is  getting  awfully  hot,"  shouted  the 
boy,  holding  the  little  one  close  to  the  win- 
dow. Then  he  added:  "Say,  if  you  will 
cut  the  rope  at  your  side  I  can  let  her 
down  into  the  yard." 

"  The  rope  won't  half  reach,"  answered 
Ray.  "  Why  don't  you  throw  water  on 
the  fire?" 

"  There's  no  water  in  the  room," 
howled  the  boy,  and  again  he  lifted  up  his 
voice  and  called,  "  Fire !  fire !  fire !  " 

"  There's  no  use  crying,"  shouted  Ray ; 
"no  one  lives  around  here.  The  houses 
are  all  new." 

"Mother  will  half  kill  me  if  baby's 
burned,"  sobbed  the  boy.  "I  wish  you 
had  her.  What  shall  I  do?  The  fire's 
climbing  up  the  wall.  Fire!  FIRE! 
FIRE!" 

"  Stop  that  noise,"  commanded  Ray, 
who  had  been  thinking.  "  Have  you  got 
a  sheet  or  a  blanket  or  a  tablecloth  ?  "  he 
called  out  after  a  moment. 

"  The  sheets  are  all  burnt  and  so  is  the 
blanket — but  hold  on!  Here's  a  table- 
cover." 

"  Pin  it  on  the  pulley-line  and  send  it 
over  to  me,"  ordered  Ray.  The  boy 


quickly  obeyed,  and  Ray  soon  fashioned 
the  tablecloth  into  something  like  a  ham- 
mock. 

"  Now  stop  your  noise  and  listen  to 
me,"  called  Ray  sharply.  "  When  I  send 
this  hammock  over  to  you,  be  sure  to 
fasten  the  baby  in  strong.  If  you  don't 
she  will  fall  out.  The  extra  piece  of  line 
is  in  the  hammock." 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  going  to  put  my 
baby  into  that  thing?"  shouted  the  boy, 
as  he  hugged  the  little  one  close. 

"Yes,"  returned  Ray.  "There's  no 
danger;  they  sent  three  men  ashore  that 
way  from  the  Lapwing  in  a  piece  of  sail, 
through  a  great  storm,  with  the  waves 
dashing  mountain  high  against  the  rocks." 

As  the  boy  in  the  flat  examined  the 
tablecloth  doubtfully,  a  dense  column  of 
black  smoke  rolled  from  the  window,  and 
the  baby  began  to  cough  and  choke. 

"  I  guess  I'll  have  to  give  her  to  you," 
gasped  the  boy,  fighting  the  smoke  away 
from  the  dear  little  face,  while  the  tears 
rolled  down  his  cheeks. 

"  Fasten  her  strong,"  warned  Ray, 
"  she  looks  like  a  regular  kicker."  Great 
blinding  tears  chased  each  other  down  his 
cheeks,  too,  as  the  boy  slipped  the  laugh- 
ing, crowing  baby  into  the  tablecloth, 
wound  the  piece  of  rope  around  and 
around  the  bundle  and  over  the  clothes- 
line, and  sent  it  from  him  with  shaking 
hands.  It  was  a  moment  to  make  even  a 
strong  man  cry. 

A  tiny  white  hand  and  arm  showed  for 
a  minute  above  the  improvised  hammock, 
and  the  boy  in  the  flat  smothered  a  cry 
of  fea'r  that  rose  to  his  lips.  Even  Ray's 
stout  heart  gave  two  or  three  quick 
thumps,  but  he  kept  on  pulling  the  line 
carefully  until  he  had  the  little  human 
parcel  safe  in  the  grasp  of  his  two 
hands. 


"Got  her  aH  right?"  shouted  the  boy 
in  a  trembling  voice. 

"  All  right,"  answered  Ray,  holding  the 
little  creature  high  up  in  his  arms  as 
proof. 

"Now  I'm  going,"  shouted  the  boy, 
who  was  already  standing  on  the  window- 
sill  enveloped  in  smoke. 

Ray  watched  him  scramble  out  on  the 
window-sill,  lay  himself  flat  against  the 
house,  and  stretch  out  his  foot  until  the 
tip  of  his  toe  touched  the  next  window- 
sill  and  the  ends  of  his  fingers  grasped  the 
bricks  at  the  side.  Then  he  disappeared 
through  the  window. 

At  last  a  shrill  whistle,  accompanied  by 
the  tap-tap  of  four  fast  flying  feet, 
sounded  through  the  quiet  street. 

"The  fire  marshal,"  said  Ray  to  the 
baby,  and  he  thrust  his  head  from  the 
window.  Close  behind  came  the  great  fire 


horses  pounding  the  earth  with  their  big 
hoofs.  In  a  moment  more  the  opposite 
room  was  filled  with  firemen. 

The  baby  laid  her  small  head  on  Ray's 
shoulder,  and  Ray  whispered,  "  Well,  I'm 
glad  I  was  locked  in  the  library." 

Then  came  the  rattling  of  a  key  in  the 
lock  and  the  door  was  flung  open. 

"  My  baby !  my  baby !  "  cried  an  excited 
mother. 

"  There  she  is,  as  safe  as  can  be ! '' 
shouted  the  boy  from  across  the  way. 

The  fire  was  soon  extinguished.  Ray 
received  as  modestly  as  he  could  the 
praise  and  thanks  of  a  thoroughly  grateful 
mother,  who  seemed  to  think  his  rescue 
of  her  baby  the  cleverest  and  most  won- 
derful thing  in  the  world.  Then  he  saw 
that  the  library  was  properly  locked  again 
— with  no  one  inside — and  trudged  on  his 
homeward  way,  hungry  but  happy. 


HOW  KITTY  USED  HER  UMBRELLA 


By  CARROLL  WATSON  RANKIN 


[ORGETFUL  Uncle  John  didn't 
know  what  to  do.  When  he 
had  stepped  from  the  train  he 
had  been  certain  that  his  valise 
contained  presents  for  everybody  where 
he  was  going  to  visit;  but  as  he  walked 
along  the  street  his  troublesome  memory 
began  to  wake  up. 

"  Dear  me,"  said  he,  "  I've  forgotten 
somebody!  There  are  seven  persons  In 
that  house  and  only  six  presents  in  my 
bag.  If  only  I  could  remember  which 
one " 

But  Uncle  John  couldn't.  In  the  house 
to  which  he  was  going  there  were  two 
boys,  two  girls,  a  father,  a  mother,  and  a 
jolly  little  grandmother.  In  buying 
presents  for  these  relatives  whom  he  had 
not  seen  for  a  long  time  he  had  somehow 
overlooked  one,  but  which  one  he  could 
not  recall. 

"  I'll  have  to  buy  something,"  said  he, 
"  that  will  fit  a  man,  a  woman,  a  boy,  or  a 
girl." 

But  there  were  no  shops.  Uncle  John 
looked  up  and  down  the  street.  Then  he 
peered  around  the  corner.  A  man  with 
an  armful  of  umbrellas  was  striding 
toward  him,  crying  loudly:  "Umbrellas 
to  sell— umbrellas  to  sell !  " 

"The  very  thing,"  said  Uncle  John. 
"Anybody  can  use  an  umbrella.  Here, 
my  man,  I  want  one  of  those — this  one 
with  the  plain  wooden  handle." 

So  this  was  the  reason,  when  all  the 
other  presents  had  been  handed  around 
to  the  other  persons,  why  chubby,  seven- 
year-old  Kitty  received  a  really  grown-up 
umbrella. 


"  Oh !  "  cried  Kitty,  "  a  whole  num- 
brella  for  just  me?  I've  always  wanted 
to  belong  to  a  numbrella." 

"  Well,  now  you  do,"  said  Uncle  John. 
"  But  suppose  you  say  '  an  umbrella.'  " 

"A  numbrella,"  said  Kitty,  obligingly. 
"Thank  you,  Uncle  John;  I  like  it  very 
much." 

"You'd  better  look  out,"  warned 
Grandma.  "The  wind  may  carry  you 
and  that  big  umbrella  over  the  tree-tops 
some  fine  day." 

"  I  do  hope  it'll  rain  soon,"  said  Kitty, 
running  to  the  window  to  look  at  the  sky. 
"  Can't  anybody  see  any  clouds  ?  " 

But  nobody  could.  The  spring  had 
been  such  a  rainy  one  that  perhaps  there 
was  no  rain  left  for  the  summer.  Day 
after  day  the  bright  blue  sky  was  all  but 
cloudless. 

"  Oh,  such  blue-eyed  days,"  mourned 
Kitty.  "  Does  n't  anybody  s'pose  it's  ever 
going  to  rain  ?  " 

One  Monday  afternoon  in  August 
everybody  was  out  of  the  house  except 
Kitty  and  Hannah,  the  maid,  who  had 
some  starched  clothes  drying  on  the  line, 
and  was  keeping  a  watch  on  the  weather. 

"My!"  said  Hannah,  going  to  the 
kitchen  door  and  glancing  at  the  sky, 
"  how  dark  it's  getting.  I  do  believe  it's 
going  to  rain  on  my  clean  clothes." 

"Oh,  do  you?"  cried  Kitty,  joyfully, 
"  I'm  sorry  about  the  clothes,  but  if  it  does 
rain  I  shall  go  for  a  walk  with  my  owr 
numbrella— I  guess  I  will,  anyway." 

"  Well,"  warned  Hannah,  "  you  mustn't 
go  off  this  street." 

A  moment  later  Kitty,  feeling  very  im- 


portant  indeed  with  her  really  truly  um- 
brella under  her  arm,  was  walking 
toward  Bessie  Bailey's  house,  which  was 
six  whole  blocks  away,  on  Kitty's  own 
street. 

Bessie  was  a  kind  little  girl  with  five 
kittens.  Bessie's  brother  Bob,  also  a  very 
kind  young  person,  owned  a  whole  cage- 
ful  of  little  fuzzy  rabbits.  Both  children 
were  delighted  to  see  Kitty. 

"  Don't  you  want  a  kitten  ?  "  asked  gen- 
erous Bessie.  "  They're  just  big  enough 
to  be  given  away.  You  can  have  two  if 
you  like." 

"  Could  I  ?  "  cried  Bessie,  "  I'd  love  to 
have  two." 

"  Will  your  mother  let  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  likes  little  cats — our  old  one 
ran  away." 

"  Perhaps  you  could  have  some  rabbits, 
too,"  said  kind-hearted  Bessie. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  said  Bob.  "Take  any 
two  you  like — we  have  eight  of  this  size." 

"  I'm  so  glad  I  came,"  breathed  Kitty. 
"  But  how  can  I  carry  four — four  nani- 
mals  and  a  numbrella  ? " 

"  I'll  fix  it,"  said  Bob,  pulling  some  long 
grass  and  dropping  it  into  the  umbrella 
where  it  made  a  soft  green  cushion. 
"  Now  give  me  the  rabbits — that's  right — 


now  the  kittens.  There !  They  can  ring- 
around-a-rosy  round  the  handle,  and 
you'll  have  only  one  thing  tc  carry." 

"  But,"  objected  Bessie,  "  the  numbrelle, 
will  fall  open — they'll  all  jump  out." 

"  Give  me  a  string— yes,  your  hair  rib- 
bon will  do,  Bess.  There !  Now  you  are 
all  right,  Madam  Kitty." 

Before  Kitty  had  reached  the  corner, 
however,  the  rain  Hannah  had  predicted 
suddenly  burst  from  the  clouds.  Such  a 
rain!  Kittie,  with  her  precious  umbrella 
tied  up,  was  drenched.  By  the  time  she 
had  reached  her  own  door  there  was 
hardly  a  dry  thread  on  her. 

But  do  you  think  she  cared?  Not  a 
bit,  for  snuggled  safely  inside  the  big 
umbrella  were  four  perfectly  dry  little 
"  nanimals." 

Uncle  John  opened  the  door  for  his 
dripping  niece. 

"  I've  used  my  numbrella,"  said  beam- 
ing Kitty,  proudly  holding  it  out  for  in- 
spection. 

"  I  notice,"  said  smiling  Uncle  John, 
"that  you  either  wear  your  umbrella  up- 
side down  or  else  you  walk  on  your  head. 
Which  is  it?" 

"Just  kittens  and  rabbits,"  explained 
Kitty0 


THE  MOON  TABLE 


By   LOUISE   OCTAVIAN 


UTTLE  ARDIS  sat  disconso- 
lately at  the  piano.  Such  a 
miserable  old  piano!  Such 
rattling,  yellow  keys!  Such 
cracked  and  jingling  tones !  One  was  re- 
minded of  the  p'ano  in  "  Cranford,"  which 
the  writer  said  "  must  have  been  a  spin- 
net  in  its  youth." 

Ardis  turned  the  leaves  of  her  music 
sadly.  The  chords  in  the  "  Don  Giovanni 
Minuetto  "  rang  out  discordantly,  offend- 
ing the  correct  ear  of  the  little  musician. 
"  Twilight "  was  completely  spoiled  by  a 
broken  E-flat  string.  Two  bass  notes 
stuck  hopelessly,  marring  the  melody  in 
the  "  Song  of  the  Peasant,"  and  Ardis  was 
almost  in  tears. 

Then  papa  rushed  into  the  room.  His 
face  was  radiant,  and  he  seized  Ardis  and 
whirled  her  off  the  stool. 

"  What  would  you  say  to  a  new  piano, 
sweetheart  ?  "  he  cried.  "  A  brand-new, 
upright  piano,  with  a  beautiful  rosewood 
case,  and  shining  black  and  white  keys; 
with  a  perfect  action,  and  a  bell-like 
tone?" 

Ardis  was  simply  unable  to  say  any- 
thing at  all,  but  she  threw  both  arms 
around  Mr.  Lindsay's  neck,  and  the  en- 
thusiasm of  her  embrace  was  answer 
enough. 

"  Well,  I  have  ordered  one  for  you," 
continued  papa,  still  whirling  her  dizzily 
around  the  room.  "  It  will  be  here  to- 
morrow, so  play  a  farewell  tune  upon  this 
awful  old  box." 

Ardis  hugged  papa  still  more  raptur- 
ously, and  then  mamma  and  Millie  and 
Els'^  and  Dick  came  hurrying  in  to  assist 


in  the  rejoicing.  Ardis  went  back  to  her 
practicing,  and  played  the  "  Minuetto " 
jubilantly.  "  Tl.  „  last  piece !  The  last 
piece!  The  last  piece  on  this  old  piano 
forever,  and  ever,  and  ever !  "  she  chanted 
joyously. 

All  night  she  dreamed  of  the  coming 
treasure,  and  in  the  morning  was  too  ex- 
cited to  eat  her  breakfast. 

"  What  time  will  it  be  here  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  it  will  take  several  hours  to  come 
out  from  Boston,"  said  mamma.  "  I 
should  not  begin  to  look  for  it  before 
eleven." 

But  long  before  nine  Ardis  was 
perched  upon  the  gate,  straining  her  eyes 
to  catch  the  first  glimpse  of  the  team  as 
it  rounded  the  curve  at  the  foot  of  the 
long  hill.  Millie  and  Elsie  were  seated 
upon  the  fence,  and  Dick  had  climbed  into 
a  pear  tree  in  order  to  be  the  first  to  an- 
nounce the  arrival. 

At  last  the  town  clock  struck  ten. 

"  Here  it  comes !  Here  it  comes !  "  cried 
Dick,  nearly  falling  out  of  the  tree  in  his 
excitement. 

"  Let's  run  and  meet  it,"  said  Ardis, 
and  all  four  started  pell-mell  down  the 
hill. 

But  alas,  and  alas!  It  was  only  a  tin 
peddler's  wagon  after  all ! 

They  trooped  slowly  back,  and  another 
hour  passed  with  no  sign  of  the  piano. 

At  last  Elsie  cried,  "  I  see  it !    I  see  it  I  " 

"Yes,  Ardis,  no  mistake  this  time," 
said  Mollie,  and  down  the  hill  they  til 
dashed  again.  But  it  was  only  an  empty 
furniture  van. 

After  dinner  the  youtrger  children 


tired  of  watching,  and  Ardis  was  left 
upon  the  fence  alone. 

"  Be  patient,  dear,"  said  mamma,  "  it 
will  come  very  soon  now,  I  am  sure." 

At  last  Ardis  curled  up  in  the  ham- 
mock, a  little  tired  after  the  long  hours 
of  waiting.  "  The  first  piece  on  the  dear 
new  piano  shall  be  the  '  Song  of  the 
Peasant,' "  she  said  to  herself  happily. 

Then  she  heard  the  clock  chiming  four. 
"  Perhaps  '  Twilight '  would  be  better  for 
the  first  piece,  if  it  comes  so  late,"  said 
she. 

Just  then  a  boy  came  up  the  steps  with 
a  note  from  papa.  Mrs.  Lindsay  read  it 
very  soberly,  and  then  came  to  the  ham- 
mock, and  put  her  arms  around  Ardis. 

"  Can  my  little  girl  be  very  brave  and 
cheerful?  "  she  asked.  "  Papa  met  with  a 
business  disappointment  this  morning,  and 
was  obliged  to  countermand  the  order  for 
the  piano.  Will  Ardis  wait  patiently  a 
little  longer,  and  not  trouble  papa  by 
fretting  ?  " 

Ardis  was  beyond  speech,  but  she 
nodded  quickly,  and  breaking  away  from 
mamma's  arms,  ran  into  the  house  and 
up  to  the  attic,  always  her  refuge  in  times 
of  trouble. 

Old  soldier  suits,  worn  and  faded; 
rusty  swords,  and  battered  muskets  hung 
solemnly  here.  Old  furniture,  discarded 
clothing,  broken  toys,  trunks  and  boxes, 
littered  the  dusty  spaces.  Ardis  crept 
into  a  favorite  nook  beside  a  gable  win- 
dow, and  throwing  herself  upon  an  old 
sofa,  sobbed  as  though  her  heart  would 
break. 

At  last  she  sat  up  and  tried  to  fight 
back  the  tears.  The  late  afternoon  sun 
poured  warmly  through  the  cobwebby  win- 
dow, and  shone  full  upon  an  old  table  just 
behind  her. 

Such  an  old,  old  table !  A  "moon  table" 


she  had  heard  her  father  call  it.  It  had 
belonged  to  his  great-grandmother,  and 
had  come  from  over  the  sea.  It  was  made 
in  the  shape  of  a  half  moon,  of  solid  ma- 
hogany, and  had  slender,  tapering  legs. 
It  had  been  richly  inlaid  with  rose  and 
lilac  woods,  but  now  the  delicate  pattern 
was  only  faintly  discernible,  and  the  whole 
thing  was  scratched,  and  worn  and  shaky. 
Mr.  Lindsay  was  fond  of  antique  furni- 
ture, and  Ardis  had  once  heard  him  speak 
of  having  this  old  heirloom  repolished  and 
put  in  order.  But  mamma  had  laughed  at 
the  idea.  Mamma  hated  anything  old- 
fashioned. 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Ardis,  looking  througi 
her  tears  at  the  moon-shaped  relic.  "  Hor- 
rid old  piano !  Ugly  old  table !  I  should 
just  like  to  make  a  bonfire  out  of  the  dingy 
old  things !  "  And  she  gave  the  poor  old 
table  a  vindictive  kick. 

Then  she  perched  upon  the  arm  of  the 
sofa,  and  began  to  drum  carelessly  upon 
the  worn  inlaid  work  of  the  table. 

"  Oh,  the  dear  new  piano ! "  she 
sighed.  "  Oh,  the  dear,  smooth,  shinv, 
white  keys ! " 

Slowly  the  fingers  of  her  right  hand 
picked  out  "  Fingertwist  "  upon  the  moon 
table.  Suddenly  something  flew  out  with 
a  snap  and  a  jerk.  She  had  touched  a 
concealed  spring,  and  a  tiny,  secret 
drawer  lay  open  before  her.  In  the  wild- 
est excitement  Ardis  slid  off  the  arm  of 
the  sofa,  and  began  to  examine  this  mys- 
terious hiding-place.  It  contained  only 
one  article,  a  small  leather  bag,  tied  up 
with  a  faded  red  ribbon,  and  smelling 
faintly  of  musk. 

With  trembling  fingers'  Ardis  untied 
the  worn  ribbon,  and  then,  O  wonder  of 
wonders !  treasures  undreamed  of  poured 
forth  from  the  bag.  A  beautiful  string 
of  gold  beads,  of  quaint  design  and  for- 


sign  workmanship,  glittered  in  the  sun- 
light. Next  came  a  queer  old  brooch, 
richly  set  with  glowing  rubies.  Then  an 
ancient  thumb-ring  fell  into  her  lap;  and 
last  of  all  a  roll  of  gold  pieces  slipped  from 
their  crumbling  wrapper,  and  rattled  and 
jingled  upon  the  attic  floor. 

Ardis  gathered  her  treasures  into  the 
skirt  of  her  dress,  and  dashed  down  the 
two  flights  of  stairs,  a  wild  little  figure, 
<*»th  flying  curls,  and  face  all  dust,  and 


tears,  and  smiles.  Papa  had  come  home 
and  was  sitting  at  his  desk.  Ardis  fell 
upon  him  like  a  baby  whirlwind. 

"  See  what  I  found  in  the  moon  table 
drawer!  See  what  I  found  in  the  moon 
table  drawer !  "  she  cried,  swinging  the 
string  of  gold  beads  before  his  eyes. 

"  The  moon  table !  What  moon  table  ? 
What  are  you  talking  about  ?  " 

"  The  funny  old  table  up  in  the  attic, 
near  the  gable  window,"  explained  Ardis. 


"  But  a  moon  table  never  has  a  drawer," 
said  papa. 

'This  one  has!  This  one  has!"  cried 
Ardis.  "  See  the  pin  with  the  red  stones ! 
See  the  gold  pieces!  Oh,  do  come  quick 
and  see  the  moon  table ! "  And  she 
started  atticwards,  closely  followed  by 
papa,  and  mamma,  and  Mollie,  and  Elsie, 
and  Dick.  And  everyone  had  to  admit 
that  there  certainly  was  a  drawer  in  the 
battered  old  table. 


"You  shall  have  the  piano,  after  al1., 
sweetheart,"  said  papa.  "  These  rubies 
alone  will  more  than  buy  it.  And  it  will 
be  a  present  from  your  great-greni-^pand- 
mother  Lindsay !  " 

"  And  the  moon  table  shall  be  restored  to 
its  former  beauty,"  said  mamma. 

"  It  shall  have  the  place  of  honor,  close 
beside  the  new  piano,"  said  papa. 

"  The  blessed  old  moon  table ! "  cried 
Ardis. 


"Iamlate"Quotfi  Tfie  &oy.*jt  is  true; 
fly  excuse,  tfiougfi,  isgooft   4;Q 

anffife  new. 

Long  division  I  tfiovgfit 

So  much  longer 

VftatinsKort.  " 


THE  CORN  POPPER  MAN 

By  LOUISE  AYRES  GARNETT 

E  Corn  Popper  Man  is  the  children's  delight, 
•*•   And  they  watch  for  him  faithfully  every  fine  night. 
It's  his  lamp  they  first  see,  like  a  bright  little  star, 
It  shines  from  the  front  of  his  red-painted  car. 
But  the  Corn  Popper's  face  is  a  serious  sight 
As  he  looks  to  the  left  and  looks  to  the  right 
Until  someone  calls  him  or  waves  a  small  hand, 
Then  his  face  grows  as  bright  as  a  little  brass  band, 
And  he  grins  such  a  grin,  and  bows  such  a  bow, 
And  flips  off  his  hat  as  no  other  knows  how; 
So  the  children  save  pennies  and  smiles  all  they  can 
For  the  nice  Mr.,  dear  Mr.,  Corn  Popper  Man; 
And  if  they've  just  smiles  and  no  pennies  can  find, 
He  acts  most  as  pleased,  which  I  call  very  kind, 
And  calls  out,  "  Hello !  how  you  children  to-day?  " 
Then  trudges  along  on  his  corn  popping  way. 
It's  a  great  thing  to  do  just  the  best  that  you 

can, 
So  blessings  upon  you,  dear  Corn 

Popper  Man! 


I  EXT  Wednesday  is  papa's 
birthday,"  said  mamma. 
"  What  shall  we  send  him, 
Rosalind?" 

Rosalind  shut  her  eyes  and  wrinkled  up 
her  forehead  and  thought  and  thought  and 
thought.  She  and  mamma  were  at  grand- 
father's farm  in  Maine,  and  papa  was  in 
Chicago.  What  should  they  send  him  for 
a  birthday  present  ?  Suddenly  she  clapped 
her  hands. 

"  Let's  send  him  a  picture ! "  she  cried. 
"  A  picture  of  me! " 

"  I'm  sure  that  would  please  him  very 
much,"  said  mamma. 

"  A  picture  of  me,"  continued  Rosalind, 
"  in  my  new  white  dress,  and  my  daisy  hat, 
and  my  widest  sash,  and  my  shoes  with  the 
silver  buckles ! '' 

"  I  will  take  your  photograph,  Rosie," 
said  Uncle  Kent. 

"  Oh,  no,  no,"  objected  Rosalind,  "  I 
want  to  go  uptown  to  the  photograph-man 
in  the  funny  little  house  on  wheels." 

"  Uncle  Kent  can  take  very  fine  pic- 
tures," said  grandfather. 

"  F  at  he  isn't  a  really,  truly  photograph- 
man  \ "  cried  Rosalind.  "  This  is  for 
papa's  birthday,  and  is  very  iraportment !  " 

"That  settles  it,"  said  Uncle  Kent. 
"  You  must  certainly  go  to  a  '  really  truly 
photograph-man.'  I  didn't  realize  quite 
how  '  importment '  it  was." 

afternoon  Rosalind  put  on  her 


white  dress,  and  daisy  hat,  and  blue  sash, 
and  buckled  shoes,  and  started  for  the 
photographer's. 

Grandfather's  turkeys  were  strutting 
grandly  around  the  yard.  There  were 
twelve  in  all — one  large,  handsome  gobbler 
that  had  taken  a  prize  at  the  County  Fair, 
and  eleven  fine  turkey-hens.  Rosalind 
loved  to  feed  them,  and  even  the  fierce- 
looking  old  gobbler  would  eat  from  her 
hand,  and  follow  her  all  around  the  yard. 
She  had  named  them  after  the  months  of 
the  year.  She  called  the  gobbler  "  Janu- 
ary," and  the  hens  after  the  other  months. 

"  Gobble,  gobble,  gobble,"  said  January, 
stepping  forward  quickly,  as  Rosalind 
came  out  of  the  house.  April  pecked  at 
her  hands,  and  July  and  August  pecked  at 
her  skirt. 

"No,  my  dear  turkey  friends,"  said 
Rosalind.  "  No  more  corn  to-day.  Go 
away,  January.  I'm  going  to  have  my 
picture  taken.  Shoo-shoo-shoo,  my  dear 
turkey  friends ! " 

Rosalind  skipped  happily  down  the  long 
lane,  and,  turning  out  upon  the  state  road, 
started  toward  the  village. 

Soon  a  team  came  along,  the  driver  of 
which  looked  at  her  curiously. 

"  I  wonder  if  he  sees  the  buckles  on  my 
shoes  ?  "  thought  Rosalind. 

Then  she  met  the  rural  delivery  wagon, 
and  the  postman  looked  at  her  and 
smiled. 


*  I  thinV  most  pretty  he  likes  my  hat," 
said  Rosalind 

Then  she  passed  a  cottage,  and  several 
people  came  to  the  windows,  and  they,  too, 
were  smiling.  At  the  railroad  crossing  the 
old  gateman  grinned  broadly,  and  from  an 
automobile  whizzing  by  in  a  cloud  of  dust 
came  peal  after  peal  of  laughter.  At  last 
she  reached  the  village,  and  here,  too, 
everyone  looked  at  her,  and  everyone  was 
smiling. 

In  front  of  the  post-office  about  twenty 
men  and  boys  were  waiting  for  the  mail. 
When  they  saw  Rosalind  they  laughed 
loudly,  and  nudged  each  other,  and  pointed 
— pointed  at  something  behind  Rosalind. 

Then,  at  last,  Rosalind  turned,  and 
there,  close  behind  her,  marching  proudly 
along  in  single  file,  were  the  prize  gobbler 
and  his  eleven  wives ! 

"  Gobble,  gobble,  gobble,"  said  January 
solemnly,  and  the  crowd  shouted  with 
laughter. 

Poor  Rosalind !  She  gave  one  look  at 
the  turkeys,  and  one  look  at  the  crowd, 
then  turned  and  started  for  home,  forget- 
ting all  about  the  picture  for  papa. 

"  Gobble,  gobble,  gobble,"  said  January, 
turning  also,  and  leading  his  flock  after 
her. 

Rosalind  reached  home  at  last,  hot  and 
tired  and  dusty,  and  told  the  story  tear- 
fully. 

"  It  was  so  exbarrassing,"  said  she.  "  I 
never  want  to  go  uptown  again,  not  even 


to  get  my  picture  taken  for  papa.  I'm 
never  going  to  the  post-office  again  nor 
past  that  old  gateman.  And,  oh!  I'll 
never,  never  give  those  horrid  turkey?  any 
more  corn !  " 

And  for  two  days  the  barnyara  fowls 
looked  in  vain  for  Rosalind. 

The  third  morning  Rosalind  found  a 
package  beside  her  plate  at  breakfast  time. 
What  could  it  be  ?  She  opened  it  eagerly, 
and  there,  in  a  red  leather  frame,  was  the 
prettiest  picture !  A  picture  of  a  little  girl 
in  a  white  dress,  with  a  hat  covered  with 
daisies,  and  a  sash,  and  buckled  shoes! 
And  behind  this  little  girl  were  twelve  hand- 
some turkeys! 

"  Oh !  oh !  "  cried  Rosalind.  "  It's  me! 
and  January,  and  February,  and  March, 
and  all  the  other  months !  Who  could 
have  taken  it  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Uncle  Kent,  "  I  happened 
to  be  near  the  post-office  when  you  came 
along,  and  I  happened  to  have  my  camera 
fixed  for  a  snapshot." 

"  It's  the  loveliest  picture !  "  said  Rosa- 
lind. "And  I  know  papa  will  be  so  in- 
terested in  grandpa's  turkeys !  " 

"  Take  it  right  up  to  the  post-office," 
said  mamma,  "  and  it  will  reach  Chicago 
in  time." 

"  Yes,  I'm  going  to,"  said  Rosalind, 
"  just  as  soon  as  I've  given  my  dear  turkey 
friends  some  corn." 

"  Gobble,  gobble,  gobble"  said  January, 
loudly,  when  he  saw  Rosalind  coming. 


SfflS, 


e    thould    b«   o-e1Sb£ 
w«t! 


^J^r^^m 


fh«     *rt     she     could     not 

She    put   b«r  suites    on  wrong"    s"id« 


And 


Tom    v«/iTh 
pout- 
Just    suppose     I 

went     in- 
And    $joro;oT   To 
Come    out  I" 


NONSENSE    RHYMES 


'T1  HE  sun  was  up, 

The  day  had  come ; 
Miss  Buttercup, 

(The  pretty  one,) 
Put  on  her  cap 

Of  yellow  silk, 
And  filled  her  lap 
With  buttermilk. 


A  LADY  bug 

Who  had  no  home, 
Was  very  snug 

In  honey  comb. 
The  Buzzy  Bee 

Who  owned  the  place, 
Stood  at  the  door 
And  made  a  face. 

J.  F.  CROWELL. 


"PROM  ridge  to  ridge 

There  swung  a  bridge. 

Whose  work,  a  thousand  men  ? 
Nay,  in  the  night 
A  busy  wight 

Spun  cross,  again,  again ! 

J.  F.  CROWELU 


TVT OTHER  Moon, 
1VA       Has  on  to-night 
Her  softly  ruffled  cap, 

And  her  little 

Children  stars 
Fill  her  broad  blue  lap. 

AMANDA  BAR  is. 


KEEP  AWAY 


is  a  land  of  Grumbles, 
•*•      And  in  Disagreeable  Town 
The  children  just  do  nothing 
But  grunt  and  scowl  and  frown. 


I  shouldn't  think  it  pleasant 
To  live  there  long,  should  you? 

Where  grunting,  scowling,  frowning 
Is  all  that  they  can  do  ? 


So  if  ever  you  should  travel, 

And  stop  at  Grumble  City, 
And  not  come  back,  I  think  'twould  be 

A  most  amazing  pity. 

HARRIET  NUTTY. 


THE  CIRCLETS 


'T'HE  Circlets  celebrated 

Just  as  loudly  as  they  could, 
The  birthday  of  our  nation, 
As  all  loyal  children  should. 


THIRST,  they  read  the  Declaration, 
"     And  "  My  Country,  Tis,"  they  sang, 
Then  they  fired  off  their  crackers 
With  a  BANG,  BANG,  BANG! 

FREDERICK  WHITE. 


SVSW1.S1N  FAk. 


|XE  little  pair  was  made  of  pur- 
ple velvet  bound  with  red  and 
stitched  at  the  toes  with  gold 
thread  and  little  pieces  of  vel- 
vet to  look  like  butterflies.  The  soles  were 
made  of  about  half  a  dozen  layers  of 
white  cloth,  and  the  whole  had  been  put  to- 
gether and  made  comfortable  and  snug  by 
the  mother  of  San  Kee,  the  little  wearer. 

The  other  pair  was  of  scarlet  satin,  the 
toes  elaborately  embroidered  to  resemble 
a  tiger's  head,  with  beaded  ears  and  eyes. 
The  soles  of  this  pair  were  similar  to  that 
of  the  other,  and  she  who  had  made  them 
was  the  honorable  grandmother  of  Wing 
Sing,  who  wore  them. 

Wing  Sing  and  San  Kee  were  two  little 
boys,  each  five  years  old,  who  were  at- 
tending school  for  the  first  time. 

"  Silence ! "  commanded  the  teacher. 
And  the  fifty  boys,  who  had  been  reciting 
their  lessons  at  the  tops  of  their  voices  for 
the  last  two  hours,  silenced. 

In  the  midst  of  the  quietness  and  still- 
ness the  two  little  pairs  of  shoes  pat- 
tered from  the  back  of  the  room  to  the 
front. 

"  Now,  unworthy  sons  of  most  worthy 
parents,"  said  the  teacher,  adjusting  the 
blue  goggles  on  his  nose,  "what  is  your 
dispute?" 

"  Oh,  great  and  wise  teacher ! "  ex- 
claimed the  owner  of  the  scarlet  satin 
shoes,  "  the  little  puppy  dog,  who  is  called 
San  Kee,  says  that  his  shoes  are  superior 
to  mine." 


"  Most  honorable  and  learned  one,  the 
worm,  Wing  Sing,  declared  that  my  shoes 
were  unfit  to  stand  beside  his,"  indig- 
nantly cried  the  boy  with  the  purple  pat- 
terns. 

The  teacher's  blue  goggles  looked  very 
severe. 

"  Your  own  words  condemn  you,"  said 
he.'  "  You  have  both  neglected  the  forms 
of  politeness  when  addressing  each  other. 
That  is  plain.  You  shall  both  receive  two 
strokes  from  the  rattan." 

"  But,  gracious  and  great  one,  declare 
wjiich  are  the  superior  shoes  ? "  impa- 
tiently cried  the  red  satined  one.  His 
father  rattaned  him  every  day,  and  the 
promise  of  the  two  strokes  disturbed  his 
mind  but  slightly. 

"Yes,  honorable  master,  deign  to 
declare  the  superior  ones,"  pleaded  San 
Kee, to  whom  the  rattan  was  also  familiar. 

"  'Tis  not  what  a  boy  looks  like  that 
proves  his  superiority,"  remarked  .  the 
teacher.  "  'Tis  what  he  has  done  or  has 
not  done.  'Tis  the  same  with  shoes. 
What  have  these  shoes  done  since  you 
have  been  to  school  ?  " 

"  I  know  what  the  shoes  of  Wing  Sing 
have  done!"  cried  San»  Kee.  "They 
kicked  mine." 

"  Did  San  Kee's  shoes  return  the  kick, 
Wing  Sing?  "  asked  the  teacher. 

"  No,  honorable  sir." 

"  Then,  Wing  Sing,  your  shoes  are  the 
inferior  pair." 

"But  San  Kee's  shoes  only  did  not 


return  the  kick  because  your  honor- 
able pupil-teacher,  Tai  Wan,  restrained 
them." 

"  Is  thaf  so,  San  Kee  ?  " 

"  'Twould  be  impolite  to  contradict 
Wing  Sing." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  teacher,  pushing 


his  blue  goggles  above  his  forehead, 
"your  shoes,  San  Kee,  also  are  inferior. 
You  shall  both  recite  your  lessons  for  one 
hour  after  school— Wing  Sing,  for  what 
his  inferior  shoes  have  done;  and  San  Kee, 
for  what  his  no  less  inferior  shoes  have 
not  done." 


DISCIPLINE 

TN  summer  when  I  go  to  stay  at  Grandpa's  farm  in  Maine, 

•*•  The  folks  begin  to  talk  to  me  soon  as  I  leave  the  train 

'Bout  what  they  call  good  "  dis-cer-pline,"  an'  argue  an'  explain ; 

For  Grandpa  says  if  I  were  his,  I'd  be  a  better  child ; 

An'  Grandma  says  my  s^ucy  ways  most  nearly  drive  her  wild ; 

An'  then  they  both  tell  what  they'd  do  if  I  should  get  them  "  riled." 

But  when  my  Grandpa  catches  me  a-lying  late  in  bed, 
Or  shooing  off  the  guinea  hens  that  come  near  to  be  fed, 
Or  knocking  all  his  tools  about,  an'  messing  up  the  shed ; 

What  do  you  s'pose  my  Grandpa  does  ?  He  calls  me  straight  to  him, 
An'  says  next  time  he'll  "  trounce  me  well,"  an'  that  I  am  a  "  limb," 
Then  slips  a  nickel  in  my  hand,  an'  says,  "  Don't  tell  her,  Jim." 

An'  other  times  when  I  have  been  an'  lost  my  Sunday  hat, 

Or  peeked  when  there  was  company,  or  run  an'  hollered  "  Scat ! " 

Or  tracked  mud  all  about  the  house,  or  called  my  uncle  "  fat  " ; 

My  Grandma  leads  me  to  her  room,  an'  says  she  hopes  I'll  grow 

To  be  a  better  boy  some  day,  an'  holds  my  hand  just  so, — 

"  An'  take  this  piece  of  pie,"  she  says,  "  but  don't  let  Grandpa  know." 

An'  so  for  all  their  scolding-talk  I  do  not  care  a  pin, 
Though,  'course  I  never  tattle  tales,  for  that  would  be  a  sin, 
But  don't  you  s'pose  I  understand  about  their  "  dis-cer-pline  "  ? 

ALICE  VAN  LEER  CARRICK.  - 


A  NICE  LITTLE  GIRL 


HATE  a  nice  new  frock ; 
I'd  rather  not  be  clean; 
I  want  to  play  some  more, 
I  think  it's  awful  mean 


To  have  to  be  dressed  up; 
I'll  cry  out  both  my  eyes, 
I  want  to  go  out  doors, 
And  make  some  nice  mud  pies! 
HARRIET  NUTTY. 


A  FIGHT  WITH   DRAGONS 


By  RUTH 

UNTIE  MAY  had  been  telling 
her  little  nephews  about  the 
Faerie  Queene  and  of  the 
knights  she  had  sent  forth  to 
4o  some  brave  deed.  The  children  were 
especially  interested  in  the  story  of  how 
the  Red  Cross  Knight  had  killed  the  great 
dragon  when  it  tried  to  kill  him. 

"Oh,  Auntie,"  cried  Donald,  his  eyes 
shining  with  the  marvel  of  it  all,  "how 
I  wish  there  were  dragons  alive  to-day 
and  that  one  would  try  to  wind  himself 
about  me.  I'd  just  draw  out  my  sword 
and  fight  until  I  had  killed  him  deader 
than  a  door-nail." 

"  There  are  dragons  alive  to-day,"  said 
Auntie  May,  "and  do  you  know,  Don- 
ald, that  one  of  them  is  winding  himself 
about  you.  If  you  don't  look  out,  by  and 
by  he  will  have  you  bound  so  tight  that 
you  cannot  get  free." 

"Why,  Auntie  May!"  Donald's  eyes 
opened  wide.  "  You're  just  fooling." 

"  No,  I  am  not." 

"  Then  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"Well,  I  will  tell  you.  This  morning 
I  sat  sewing  near  the  window  when  you 
children  were  playing  out-doors,  so  I 
couldn't  help  hearing  all  you  said.  When 
someone  suggested  a  race,  you  said,  be- 
fore the  race  began,  that  you  knew  you 
could  beat  them  all.  Then  in  the  jumping 
match,  ^iienever  one  of  the  other  boys 


MERWYN 

would  jump,  you  said,  '  Oh,  that's  noth- 
ing, I  can  do  better  than  that.'  So  it  was 
in  all  of  the  games,  you  boasted  each  time 
before  you  had  a  chance  to  play,  and  you 
kept  telling  what  wonderful  things  you 
could  do.  A  dragon  called  BRAG  is  wind- 
ing his  coils  around  you,  and  if  you  don't 
kill  him,  he'll  conquer  you.  In  the  olden 
times  the  true  knight  did  not  boast  of  what 
he  could  do.  He  did  the  brave  deed,  and 
the  people  who  saw  it  praised  him.  When 
a  boy  gets  into  the  power  of  this  dragon 
BRAG  the  other  boys  always  dislike  him, 
and  do  not  give  him  credit  even  for  what 
he  has  done." 

Donald  looked  sober.  At  last  he  said, 
"  Auntie  May,  I'm  going  to  fight  that 
dragon.  I  didn't  know  before  that  he 
was  winding  his  coils  around  me." 

"  All  right,  dear,"  said  his  auntie,  "  I 
will  be  the  Faerie  Queene  and  send  you 
forth  to  kill  him.  You  must  report  to  me 
from  time  to  time  about  the  battle." 

"  Can  t  I  fight  a  dragon,  too,  Auntie?  " 
asked  five-year-old  Robert. 

"Yes,  Robert,  you  have  one  to  fight, 
but  it  is  not  the  dragon  BRAG.  Your 
dragon  is  named  SELFISHNESS.  You 
know,  dear,  how  hard  it  is  for  you  to 
share  your  goodies  with  the  other  chil- 
dren. That's  because  of  this  dragon ;  so 
I  will  send  you  forth  to  fight  him.  The 
next  time  you  have  something  to  shares 


do  not  stop  to  think  how  much  you  want 
it  yourself,  but  think  how  much  the  other 
boy  will  like  it.  And,  Donald,  whenever 
you  feel  like  bragging,  you  must  make 
yourself  keep  still.  Each  time  you  do  this, 
you  will  be  wounding  the  old  dragon,  and 
HY  and  by  he  will  die." 

For  many  days  the  children  reported  to 
the  Faerie  Queene.  Sometimes  they  told 
of  a  victory,  and  sometimes  it  was  of  a 
Jcfeat.  The  Queene  praised  and  encour- 
aged the  knights  and  sent  them  forth  again 
to  renew  the  struggle. 

Finally,  one  evening  Donald  said :  "  Oh, 
Auntie,  I  haven't  bragged  a  single  bit  this 


whole  week ;  and  do  you  know,  it  isn't  half 
so  hard  to  keep  still  as  it  was  at  first. 
When  I  began  the  words  would  fly  out 
almost  before  I  could  stop  them,  but  they 
don't  do  that  way  now." 

"Auntie  May,"  reported  little  Robeu, 
"  to-day  I  gave  more  than  half  my  candy 
to  Charley  Sift,  and  it  didn't  hurt  me  a 
bit." 

The  Faerie  Queen  kissed  the  children. 

"  My  noble  knights,"  she  said,  "  you 
have  done  your  work  well.  I'm  sure 
you  both  will  soon  have  the  old  dragons 
so  dead  that  they  will  never  come  to 
life." 


A 

SMALL 
SEAMSTRESS 

A  LITTLE  girl  went  to  a 
sewing-bee ; 

She  was  scarcely  more  than  half- 
past  three. 

But  she  worked  so  well,  for  one 
of  her  size, 

That  the  needles  stared  with  all 
their  eyes ! 

MARTHA  BURR  BANKS. 


THE   CHERRY  TREE 

By  DORIS  WEBB 


|NE  afternoon  Louis  came  over 
to  the  big  white  house.  "  Let's 
take  a  nice  long  walk  and  have 
some  'ventures,"  he  said  to 
Eunice  and  Phyllis,  who  were  sitting  on 
the  piazza,  steps. 

"  Oh,  let's ! "  cried  Phyllis ;  so  she  ran 
to  get  her  sunbonnet  and  Eunice's  sun- 
bonnet,  and  told  her  mother  they  were 
going  for  a  walk  with  Louis. 

The  three  children  started  down  the  road 
and  then  turned  into  a  field  where  the 
daisies  came  almost  to  their  waists.  It 
was  a  field  they  loved  to  play  in,  and  where 
they  often  went  to  gather  flowers,  but  this 
day  they  wanted  to  do  something  more  ex- 
citing. So  they  went  on,  through  another 
field  and  along  a  road,  quite  a  distance, 
till  they  came  to  a  large  barn.  It  had  a 
pointed  roof  and  a  shed  at  one  side,  brt 
what  interested  the  children  was  a  big 
cherry  tree  near  the  shed — a  lovely  tree, 
just  filled  with  delicious  red  cherries. 

"  Oh,  I  wish  we  could  reach  them !  " 
said  Eunice,  and  she  stood  on  tiptoe,  but 
her  hand  was  a  long  way  below  the  bob- 
bing fruit 


"  Well,,!  know  how  we  can,"  said  Louis. 
"  There's  a  ladder,  and  we  can  climb  on 
top  of  the  shed  and  pick  some  cherries 
just  as  easy ! " 

So  Louis  climbed  up,  and  Phyllis  and 
Eunice  followed.  They  crawled  onto  the 
shed,  and  found  themselves  within  easy 
reach  of  the  tree.  So  they  started  picking 
and  eating  the  delicious  red  cherries.  Sud- 
denly they  saw  two  men  coming  from 
the  distance,  and  somehow  those  three 
children  began  to  feel  a  little  uncom- 
fortable. 

"  Perhaps  those  men  own  the  tree,"  said 
Louis.  "  I  never  thought  of  that.  They 
may  be  angry  because  we're  eating  the 
cherries." 

"  Hide  here,"  said  Eunice,  "  and  maybe 
they  won't  see  us !  "  So  they  all  crouched 
together  under  the  eaves  of  the  barn  and 
kept  very  still.  Pretty  soon  they  heard 
two  voices  beneath  them. 

"You  have  some  fine  cherries  there, 
farmer,"  said  one. 

"Yes,"  said  the  other,  "and  if  I 
find  anyone  picking  them,  he'll  be 
sorry." 


THE  BROKEN   DOLL 


"  The  cherries  do  belong  to  him !  "  whis- 
pered Eunice. 

"  Be  very  quiet,"  said  Louis,  "  until  they 
go  away." 

The  three  children  felt  very  much  like 
three  mice  who  hear  a  hungry  cat  near  by. 
After  a  while  the  voices  grew  more  dis- 
tant and  then  ceased.  The  two  men  had 
evidently  gone  away.  Louis  crawled  care- 
fully to  the  edge  of  the  shed  to  see,  but  in 
a  moment  he  crawled  back  again,  looking 
puzzled.  "  The  farmer's  gone,"  he  said ; 
"  but  he  has  taken  away  the  ladder.  We 
can't  get  down !  " 

Then  dear  little  Eunice,  who  always  saw 
xhe  funny  side  of  things,  began  to  laugh. 
"  It's  very  funny  to  be  left  up  on  a  roof !  " 
she  said ;  "  I  feel  like  a  pigeon." 

They  kept  as  quiet  as  they  could  for  a 
long  time,  because  they  were  afraid  the 
farmer  would  come  back  and  find  out 
that  they  had  eaten  his  cherries.  It  be- 
gan to  grow  late,  and  they  were  all  tired 
and  hungry,  and  wished  they  were  home 
for  supper ;  but  they  ate  no  more  cherries. 
At  last  they  heard  a  patter  of  hoofs,  and 
looking  up,  saw  the  Darcys'  pink  pony  and 
the  Darcys'  pony-cart  coming  down  the 
road.  And  in  the  pony-cart  were  Louis' 
brother  and  sister,  Joe  and  Helen. 

"O  Helen!  Joe!"  called  the  children, 
waving  from  the  roof.  The  pony-cart 
stopped  at  once,  and  Helen  and  Joe  climbed 
put.  They  ran  up  to  the  barn. 

"How  did  you  ever  get  there?"  called 
Helen. 

Three  eager  faces  looked  down  at  her 
over  the  edge  of  the  shed.  "  Sh-h !  Don't 
talk  too  loud!"  said  Louis,  and  he  told 
them  all  about  the  cherries  and  the 
farmer. 

"  Mother  sent  us  here  to  buy  some  cher- 
ries from  the  farmer,"  said  Joe.  "  Here 
he  comes  now !  Hide  quick !  "  So  back 


the  three  children  scrambled  to  the  eaves, 
and  Helen  and  Joe  waited  for  the  farmer. 

"  Hello,  youngsters ! "  he  said,  as  he 
came  up.  "  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"We — we  want  to  buy  some  cherries, 
p — please,"  said  Joe.  He  was  so  afraid 
the  farmer  would  discover  Louis  and 
Phyllis  and  Eunice. 

Then  the  farmer  did  a  very  surprising 
thing. 

"Hello  up  there!"  he  shouted.  "Do 
you  children  want  to  come  down  from  that 
roof  yet?" 

"Yes,  please,"  answered  Louis  in  a 
quavering  voice.  "  How  did  you  know  we 
were  here  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  saw  you,"  said  the  farmer,  "  and 
I  thought  I  would  give  you  a  little  scare, 
so  I  took  the  ladder  away.  You  came 
after  my  cherries,  did  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  didn't  exactly  do  it  on  pur- 
pose," explained  Phyllis ;  "  we  didn't  know 
they  belonged  to  anyone." 

"  Ha-ha !  "  laughed  the  farmer.  "  Well, 
come  on  down,"  and  he  brought  the  ladder 
out  of  the  barn  and  put  it  up  against  the 
shed. 

Louis  and  Phyllis  and  Eunice  climbed 
down,  and  they  were  certainly  glad  to  find 
themselves  on  the  ground  again.  They 
found  that  the  farmer  was  really  very 
kind-looking,  and  he  had  a  jolly  way  that 
made  them  feel  quite  happy  again. 

"  They're  friends  of  ours,"  explained 
Helen,  "  and  the  boy  is  my  brother." 

"Oh,  are  they?"  said  the  farmer. 
"  Well,  suppose  you  all  come  up  to  the 
house  and  have  a  drink  of  milk.  You  are 
the  Darcy  children,  I  guess." 

"  Yes,"  said  Helen,  "  and  the  others  are 
Phyllis  Murray  and  Eunice  Wayne." 

"  Oh  yes,  yes,"  said  the  farmer.  "  I've 
heard  of  all  of  you.  I  used  to  play  with 
Mr.  Wayne  when  we  were  both  boys." 


fie  took  teemTntolthe  house.  In 
the  kitchen  was  the  farmer's  wife,  a  nice 
old  lady,  who  was  very  kind  to  the  chil- 
dren. They  found  it  was  not  so  late  after 
all,  for  the  time  on  the  roof  had  seemed 
much  longer  than  it  really  was.  The 
fanner's  wife  gave  them  each  a  glass  of 
milk  and  some  rye  bread  and  butter  spread 
with  honey,  and  they  sat  and  ate  it  in  the 
nice  bright  kitchen,  while  Farmer  Mead 
told  them  a  story  of  the  time  when  he  was 
a  boy  and  a  farmer  caught  him  up  a  cherry 
tree  and  spanked  him  with  a  shingle. 

When  they  had  finished  the  bread  and 
milk,  the  farmer  went  off  to  gather  the 


cherries,  and  Louis  and  Joe  went  with  him, 
while  the  three  little  girls  walked  through 
the  garden  with  his  wife.  It  was  beautiful 
there  in  the  garden  in  the  late  afternoon 
sunlight,  with  the  dear  old-fashioned 
flowers  around,  and  the  air  cool  and  fra- 
grant. The  farmer's  wife  gave  each  of 
them  a  bunch  of  sweet  flov^'s,  and  then  all 
the  children  said  good-by  and  promised  to 
come  again. 

As  they  drove  down  the  road  behind  the 
pink  pony,  Louis  said :  "  Well,  we've  had 
our  Venture,  and  it  ended  very  nicely, 
because  I  do  like  that  nice  farmer  and  his 
wife." 


THE  CIRCLETS 


/TAHE  Circlets  at  the  ocean 

•^        Were  pleased  as  pleased  could  be. 
They  had  often  seen  a  sea-saw, 
And  now  they  saw  the  sea. 


course,  they  went  in  bathing 
And  learned  to  swim  and  float, 
While  the  kitten  studied  sailing 
In  a  kind  of  catterboat. 

FREDERICK  WHITE. 


THE  WOE-BEGONE  WIGGLE-DEE 


A 


WIGGLE-DEE  sat  on  the  top  of  Peaks  Pike, 
A-wearing  two  hats  on  his  head,  just  alike; 
His  hats  were  all  covered  with  pop-corn  and  lace, 
With  rosettes  of  cabbage  to  add  to  their  grace, 
While  a  bow  of  green  ribbon  fell  over  his  face. 


He  sported  a  pompadour  twenty  feet  high, 
While  a  cute  little  curl  nestled  o'er  his  left  eye; 
His  wings  were  of  leather  and  dyed  baby-blue 
While  out  of  his  tail  seven  white  feathers  grew ; 
And  he  carried  an  ivory  cane  when  he  flew. 

His  gloves  were  of  brown  tissue-paper,  and  they 
Were  washed,  starched  and  ironed,  three  times  every  day. 
He  carried  a  dress-suit  case,  filled  with  pink  pills, 
A  mince-pie  or  two,  and  a  bottle  of  squills, 
While  in  other  spaces  were  stuffed  doctor's  bills. 

On  the  top  of  Peaks  Pike,  as  he  sat  there  each  night, 

Presenting  a  truly  magnificent  sight, 
The  folks  who  passed  by  were  astonished  to  hear 
His  words  of  complaining  just  when  they  drew  near; 
So  they  deemed  him  ungrateful  and  verily  queer. 

"  O,  dear !  "  he  would  sob  aloud ;  then  he  would  cry, 

"  I  haven't  a  herring  to  eat  with  my  pie !  " 
And  then  he  would  wail  in  a  tone  low  and  sad, 
"  I  haven't  a  tooth-pick,  and  that  is  too  bad ! — 
And  no  teeth  to  pick,  if  a  tooth-pick  I  had. 

"Now  what  I  need  most  are  the  tooth-picks,  you  see; 
And  if  I  could  have  them  I  then  would  agree 

To  do  without  any  red-herring.    Dear,  dear! 

I'm  self-sacrificing— O,  very!    That's  clear. 

Has  anyone  tooth-picks  to  sell,  around  here  ?  " 

Meandering  by  was  a  gay  Muley-Cow ; 

Said  she,  "  Lovely  Wiggle-Dee  "  (this  with  a  bow), 
"  I've  ordered  some  tooth-picks ;  I  hope  you  can  wait, 
For  the  car  sprung  a  leak,  so  they'll  not  come  till  late,—* 
A  very  large  invoice— ten  bales  to  a  crate." 

The  good  news  so  worked  on  the  poor  Wiggle-Dee, 
He  cried  such  a  flood  that  he  barely  could  see. 
The  tear-drops  continued  to  fall  to  the  ground, 
And  there  they  piled  up  till  they  formed  a  high  mound, 
In  which  Wiggle-Dee  and  the  Cow  were  both  drowned! 

S.  VIRGINIA  LEVIS. 


THE  THUNDERSTORM  GIANT 

By  ELIZABETH   C.  WEBB 


!HE  Thunderstorm  Giant  lived 
inside  a  great  big  huge  moun- 
tain. Below  it  on  all  sides 
stretched  a  wide  plain,  planted 
with  fields  of  corn  and  potatoes  and 
cabbages,  and  dotted  with  little  red- 
roofed  houses.  The  mountain  had  once 
been  a  volcano,  which  is  a  very  high-tem- 
pered sort  of  a  mountain  that  spits  out  fire 
and  smoke,  but  it  had  given  up  being  that 
long  before  this  story  happened,  and  it  was 
just  a  good  meek  mountain,  covered  with 
green  forests,  with  a  beautiful  lake  near 
the  top.  And  the  whole  mountain  was 
hollow  inside.  And  in  the  hollow  inside 
lived  the  Thunderstorm  Giant.  And  he 
was  hollow  inside  too. 

If  you  have  never  seen  a  Thunderstorm 
Giant  I'll  tell  you  what  he  was  like.  He 
was  very  large,  and  he  was  all  made  of 
soft  gray  clouds.  Most  of  the  time  he  lay 
comfortably  asleep,  but  whenever  he  woke 
and  saw  the  blue  sky  through  the  hole  in 
the  mountain,  he  would  jump  up  in  a  jiffy 
and  cry,  "  My  goodness  gracious  me ! 
How  late  it  is !  "  and  he  would  climb  out 
of  the  mountain,  and  sitting  down  on  the 
rim  of  it,  would  begin  shaving  in  a  great 
hurry.  He  had  a  shaving  brush  as  big  as 
,  a  tree  and  an  enormous  stick  of  shaving 


soap.  And  he  would  dip  the  shaving 
brush  in  the  beautiful  lake  that  was  near 
the  top  of  the  mountain,  rub  it  on  the  soap, 
and  begin  shaving  in  such  a  hurry  that  the 
lather  would  fly  off  into  the  air  in  all 
directions.  Then  the  people  away  down 
on  the  plain  would  look  up  and  shake  their 
heads  and  say,  "  I'm  afraid  we're  going 
to  have  a  thunderstorm!  Just  look  at  all 
those  great  white  clouds  piling  up  over 
there!" 

When  he  had  finished  shaving  the  giant 
would  draw  a  long  breath  and  fill  himself 
so  full  of  air  that  he  stretched  out  and 
grew  four  times  bigger  than  he  was  before. 
He  was  hollow  inside,  you  remember,  just 
like  a  rubber  doll.  And  when  he  opened 
his  mouth  wide  and  blew  the  air  out  again, 
all  the  people  down  on  the  plain  would 
hold  on  to  their  hats  and  run  as  fast  as  they 
could  for  home,  and  cry,  "  Oh,  me !  Oh, 
my!  What  a  thunderstorm  there's  going 
to  be!" 

The  giant  when  he  saw  all  the  people  run 
so  fast  would  shout  with  glee,  and  seizing 
his  shaving  brush  would  splash  it  in  the 
lake  till  the  water  sprinkled  down  on  the 
plain.  And  all  the  people  would  put  up 
their  umbrellas  and  run  the  faster. 

Then  the  giant  would  shout  with  glee 


again,  and  leaping  down  from  the  mountain, 
would  rush  over  the  plain,  and  blow  and 
blow  and  blow  till  he  blew  all  the  people's 
umbrellas  away,  and  blew  all  the  wash  off 
the  lines,  and  sometimes  he  even  blew  the 
roofs  off  the  houses.  All  these  things  the 
Thunderstorm  Giant  would  pick  up  in  his 
arms  and  then  rush  on  over  the  fields, 
whirling  round  and  shouting  for  joy ;  and 
he  would  carry  them  with  him  away  to  his 
home  in  the  hollow  mountain  and  play 
with  them  till  he  fell  asleep.  And  when 
he  woke  and  saw  the  blue  sky  through  the 
hole  in  the  top  of  the  mountain,  he  would 
jump  up  in  a  jiffy  and  do  the  same  thing 
all  over  again. 

But  one  day  he  went  just  a  little  too  far. 
He  blew  away  Jack  Robinson's  new  ex- 
press wagon,  handsomer  than  any  express 
wagon  you  ever  saw. 

Now  Jack  Robinson  was  not  the  sort  of 
boy  to  let  such  a  thing  as  that  happen  with- 
out saying  something  about  it.  So  bright 
and  early  the  next  morning  he  put  his  soap- 
bubble  pipe  in  his  pocket,  and  taking  a 
paper  bag  full  of  cookies  to  eat  on  the  way, 
he  started  off  for  the  great  big  huge  moun- 
tain to  tell  the  Thunderstorm  Giant  what 
he  thought  of  him. 

He  walked  along  the  road  whistling 
Yankee  Doodle  and  eating  cookies  till  he 
came  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  Then 
he  had  to  stop  whistling,  for  he  needed  all 
hii  breath  for  climbing.  About  lunch 
time  he  reached  the  lake  near  the  top  of  the 
mountain,  where  the  giant  used  to  shave. 

"Now,"  he  said,  "I'll  have  a  drink." 
And  he  stooped  down  and  took  some  of  the 
water  up  in  his  hands.  But  he  didn't  like 
i  a  bit.  "  Soap !  "  he  cried  in  disgust. 

Then  he  thought  a  minute.  "  Wherever 
did  the  soap  come  from  ?  "  he  said. 

He  began  looking  about  him,  and  by  and 
by  he  found  the  giant's  shaving  brush  and 


stick  of  shaving  soap  lying  by  the  edge  of 
the  lake.  When  he  saw  how  big  they  were 
and  thought  how  big  the  giant  must  be  who 
could  use  them,  he  began  to  be  a  little  bit 
nervous.  But  he  thought  of  Jack  the 
Giant  Killer  and  Jack  and  the  Bean  Stalk, 
and  cheered  himself  up  by  telling  himself 
that  people  named  Jack  seemed  to  be  lucky 
in  their  dealings  with  giants,  till  he  felt 
quite  brave  again.  Then  he  crawled  to  the 
rim  of  the  mountain  and  looked  down.  It 
was  all  full  of  soft  gray  cloud.  That  was 
the  Thunderstorm  Giant. 

"Hello  there!  "called  Jack. 

The  sides  of  the  mountain  echoed  the 
words  so  that  they  sounded  very  loud,  just 
as  it  does  if  you  shout  when  you  are  going 
under  a  bridge.  The  Thunderstorm  Giant 
woke  up  in  a  hurry  and  bounced  out  of  the 
mountain.  He  thought  he  was  late.  He 
always  thought  he  was  late.  So  he  caught 
hold  of  his  shaving  brush  and  began  shav- 
ing as  fast  as  an  express  train. 

Jack  walked  up  to  him.  "  I  said 
*  Hello,'  "  he  remarked  severely,  "  and  you 
never  answered  me.  Don't  you  know  it's 
very  rude  not  to  answer  when  you're 
spoken  to  ?  " 

The  giant  was  so  astonished  that  he  put 
down  his  shaving  brush  and  stared  at  Jack. 
He  had  never  been  so  spoken  to  in  all 
his  life;  and  by  a  mite  the  size  of  Jack, 
too! 

"  It's  not  polite  to  stare,"  said  Jack 
calmly. 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  gasped  the  giant. 

"  Please,"  prompted  Jack  patiently. 

"  Well,  who  are  you,  please  ?  "  repeated 
the  giant  obediently,  for  he  thought  Jack 
must  be  a  very  powerful  magician  to  dare 
to  talk  to  him  in  that  way. 

"  I'm  Jack  Robinson,"  said  Jack  in  his 
grandest  manner.  "  Perhaps  you  have 
heard  of  me?"  he  added  carelessly 


AM  TOD,  PLEASE  ?  "    REPEATED    THE    GIANT    OBEDIENTLY 


*  Why  no,"  said  the  giant,  "  I  don't  be- 
lieve I  have." 

"  Is  it  possible ! "  said  Jack.  "  Why,  I'm 
the  strongest  boy  in  town !  " 

"  You're  not  stronger  than  me !  "  cried 
the  giant,  quite  forgetting  his  grammar  in 
his  excitement. 

"  What  can  you  do?  "  asked  Jack. 

"  Oh,"  said  the  giant,  "  I  can  blow  the 
roof  off  a  house." 

"  Pooh !  "  said  Jack.  "  That's  nothing ! 
Can  you  blow  a  soap  bubble  ?  " 

"  A  soap  bubble  ?  "  repeated  the  giant. 

"  You  don't  even  know  what  a  soap  bub- 
ble is !  "  said  Jack.  "  You're  not  nearly 
strong  enough  to  blow  one.  Watch  me !  " 
And  he  took  out  his  soap-bubble  pipe,  made 
a  lather  with  the  giant's  shaving  soap,  and 
blew  a  large  soap  bubble. 

"You  see  I  do  it  quite  easily,"  he 
said. 

"  Now  let  me  try !  "  cried  the  giant. 

And  he  dipped  the  soap-bubble  pipe  into 
the  lather,  filled  himself  full  of  air  till  he 
was  four  times  bigger  than  he  was  before, 
and  blew  with  all  his  might.  Of  course 
he  broke  the  bubble  all  to  pieces. 

"Told  you  so!"  cried  Jack.  "You're 
not  as  strong  as  I  am.  You  don't  blow 
nearly  hard  enough !  " 

The  giant  set  his  teeth.  "  I  was  just 
practicing,"  he  said.  "I  can  blow  much 
harder  than  that." 

"  You'll  have  to,"  said  Jack,  "  if  you 
want  to  blow  a  soap  bubble."  So  the  giant 


filled  himself  cram-full  of  air  so  that  he 
was  four  and  three-quarters  times  larger 
than  he  was  before,  and  he  blew  with  all 
his  strength  and  main.  And  he  blew  so 
hard  that  he  blew  himself  right  inside-out 
like  a  glove! 

The  inside  of  him  was  all  lined  with 
silvery  clouds,  but  though  it  was  very 
pretty  Jack  didn't  stop  to  admire  it.  Be- 
fore the  giant  could  say  "  Jack  Robinson !  " 
he  ran  up  and  poked  him  full  of  little  holes 
with  the  stem  of  his  soap-bubble  pipe !  It 
didn't  hurt  the  giant  because  he  was  just 
made  of  clouds. 

Jack  left  him  lying  on  the  grass  while  he 
climbed  down  into  the  mountain  and 
brought  up  his  express  wagon.  Then  he 
turned  him  right-side-out  again. 

"Dear  me,"  said  the  giant  in  a  dazed 
voice.  "  What  happened  ?  " 

"You  blew  yourself  inside  out,  that's 
all,"  said  Jack.  "  I've  poked  you  full  of 
holes  so  that  it  can't  happen  again,  only 
you  won't  be  able  to  blow  the  roofs  off  the 
houses  either,  for  when  you  try  to  fill  your- 
self full  of  air  a  good  deal  of  it  will  rush 
out  through  the  holes." 

"  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  you,"  said 
the  giant.  "  I  shouldn't  like  to  blow  my- 
self inside-out  again.  Must  you  go?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Jack,  picking  up  his  express 
wagon  and  starting  down  tfie  hill.  "  I'm 
late  for  lunch  now.  Good-by,"  he  called 
back,  "  told  you  you  couldn't  blow  a  soap 
bubble!" 


OUR  BABY 


F  you  have  a  little  brother  or 
sister,  you  know  just  how  cun- 
ning our  baby  is — and  how 
mischievous,  too,  perhaps. 

Our  baby  would  fill  a  whole  book  with 
funny  things — and  the  cutest  part  of  it 
is  that  she  does  not  know  she  is  a  bit 
funny.  She  isn't  three  years  old  yet,  and 
some  people  say  she  was  slow  in  begin- 
ning to  talk.  But  she  talks  now  like  a 
steam  engine  and  never  seems  to  tire 
of  it. 

What  do  you  suppose  she  did  the  other 
day,  the  dear  little  mischief? 

Well,  it  was  Saturday  afternoon,  and 
she  had  just  been  freshly  dressed  in  a 
beautiful,  clean,  starched  white  frock,  and 
her  hair  brushed  and  curled,  and  a  little 
curl  at  each  side  of  her  forehead  tied  out 
of  her  big  blue  eyes  with  pink  ribbons. 
Then  the  water  was  turned  on  in  the  tub 
for  Katharine's  bath  (Katharine  is  eight), 
and  sister  was  told  to  play  quietly  until 
the  expected  company  should  arrive. 
Well,  just  as  mother  was  twisting  up 
Katharine's  hair  in  a  little  top-knot  and 
fastening  it  with  a  pin  from  her  own  hair, 
there  was  a  terrible  noise  and  cry  from 
the  baby,  and  we  thought  surely  she  had 
fallen  down  a  whole  ilight  of  stairs. 

We  all  jumped  and  ran.  Grandma 
dropped  her  work-basket  upside  down  on 
top  of  Rollo's  head,  which  most  fright- 
ened him  into  convulsions;  and  Uncle 
Ted,  who  had  just  come  in  with  several 
bundles  in  his  hands,  dropped  them  and 
ran.  And  the  poor  baby — there  she  was 
in  the  bathtub !  Her  pretty  fresh  clothes 
were  soaked  with  water,  and  the  was  sob- 


bing as  if  her  dear  little  heart  would 
break.  We  fished  her  out,  wrapped  her 
in  a  blanket,  and  carried  her  to  the  nur- 
sery, where  we  found  she  was  not  a  bit 
hurt,  but  only  frightened.  She  had 
climbed  up  to  get  the  nice,  soft,  slippery 
soap  (which  mother  had  forbidden  her  to 
touch).  We  thought  that  her  fright  was 
punishment  enough,  and  begged  mother 
not  to  make  her  stay  upstairs  the  rest  of 
the  afternoon.  Finally  mother  said  all 
right,  so  we  all  tripped  down ;  for  Cousin 
Cecil  was  having  a  tea,  and  we  wanted  to 
meet  her  friends  and  show  how  sweet  and 
orderly  we  looked  when  we  were  cleanly 
dressed. 

Baby  put  her  fingers  in  the  cream  dish 
when  no  one  was  looking,  and  spilled  the 
whipped  cream  all  over  herself  and  the 
rug,  and  before  we  could  get  to  her  she 
had  eaten  almost  all  of  it! 

"  O,  sister !  "  cried  mother,  in  dismay. 
"You  shall  go  straight  upstairs  and  to 
bed!" 

"  I  des  helpin',"  said  sister,  as  well  as 
she  could  for  the  cream  in  her  mouth. 

But  mother  was  stern.  "  Take  her  up, 
Katharine,"  she  said.  "  I  will  be  up  in  a 
few  minutes.  You  may  undress  her." 

Then  sister's  lip  began  to  tremble  and 
her  eyes  filled  with  tears;  then  she  saw 
father  in  the  doorway.  She  calls  him 
"  Pops,"  and  the  two  are  great  cronies, 

"  I  des  want  to  pug  my  Hops ! "  she 
sobbed  with  her  little  twisted  tongue,  and 
Pops  carried  her  upstairs. 

O,  our  baby  is  more  fun,  as  the  boys 
would  say,  than  a  barrel  of  monkeys. 


HOW  ALFRED  SOLD  HIS  TEARS 


By  ANTON  F.  KLJNKNER 


|NCE  upon  a  time  there  were 
three  boys,  and  they  each  went 
to  market.  Fred  took  a  basket 
of  potatoes.  The  merchant  was 
well  pleased  with  them.  Besides  paying 
him  in  money  he  gave  Fred  an  orange  and 
told  him  to  be  sure  not  to  lose  the  money 
on  the  way  home. 

Charlie  took  a  chicken  which  his 
mother  had  prepared  for  him.  The 
butcher  was  well  pleased  w1'th  the  fowl, 
and  besides  paying  him  in  money  gave 
Charlie  a  pear  and  told  him  to  be 
sure  not  to  lose  the  money  on  his  way 
home. 

Alfred,  the  youngest  of  the  boys,  wanted 
to  go  to  market  also.  He  took  a  jar  of 
milk,  and  on  his  way  to  the  baker's  he 
stumbled  on  a  stone.  The  jar  was  broken 
and  all  the  milk  spilled. 

Alfred  felt  very  sad  about  it.  When 
he  reached  the  end  of  the  street  he  found 
Fred  and  Charlie,  who  had  waited  for 
him.  Because  he  had  spilled  the  milk 
they  teased  Alfred.  They  could  run  much 


\eft  him 


faster  than  he  could,  and  so 
to  walk  home  alone. 

Pretty  soon  a  man  came  by,  and  seeing 
Alfred  crying,  he  stopped  and  asked  him 
what  was  the  matter.  Alfred  told  him 
and  the  man  said  : 

"  There  is  no  use  crying  over  spilled 
milk.  Come,  be  a  little  man.  I  will  buy 
the  tears  you  have  already  shed." 

Besides  giving  Alfred  enough  money 
to  pay  for  the  milk  which  he  had  spilled, 
he  gave  him  a  twenty-five-cent  piece. 

When  Alfred  got  home  he  found  Fred 
and  Charlie  crying.  On  the  way  home 
they  had  fought  about  carrying  the  money 
and  had  lost  some  of  it.  Papa  gave  them 
a  lecture  for  quarreling. 

Mamma  was  surprised  to  find  Alfred 
smiling  when  he  came  in.  Fred  and 
Charlie  had  told  her  of  the  mishap  in 
spilling  the  milk,  and  she  expected  he 
would  be  crying. 

Alfred  told  her  how  the  stranger  had 
been  so  kind  to  him.  Papa  said  : 

"  He  laughs  best  who  Mnerhs  last." 


IT    SNOWS    AND    IT    BLOWS 


By   ADA  B.  STEVENS 


WISH!  Swish!  came  the 
snow  against  the  window. 
"Wo-o-o!"  called  the  wind 
in  the  chimney.  Elsie  and  Bob 
drew  their  chairs  nearer  to  mamma,  in  her 
seat  by  the  open  fire. 

"  Now,  mamma,"  they  said,  almost  to- 
gether, "tell  us  the  story  that  grandma 
used  to  tell  when  you  were  a  little  girl." 
So  mamma  began : 

Once  there  was  a  little  boy  who  lived 
all  by  himself  in  a  house  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill;  and  once  there  was  a  big  man  who 
lived  all  by  himself  in  a  big  house  at  the 
top  of  the  hill. 

One  day  <he  man  went  to  the  little 
door,  and  knocked. 

"  It  snows  and  it  blows  and  it  cuts 
my  nose,  please  let  me  come  in  and  warm 
my  toes,  and  light  my  pipe  and  off  I  goes." 

The  little  boy  said,  "No,  I'm  afraid 
you  will  carry  me  off." 

"  No,  I  won't." 

"Yes,  you  will!" 

"  No,  I  won't." 

"Yes,  you  will!" 

"  No,  I  won't." 

"Yes,  you  will!" 

"  No,  I  won't." 

And  so  the  little  boy  let  him  in. 

He  sat  down  by  the  fire  and  warmed  his 
toes,  and  lit  his  pipe,  and  popped  the  little 
boy  into  his  bag,  and  off  he  went ! 

But  the  boy  was  heavy,  and  the  man 
dropped  the  bag  behind  a  rock  while  he 
went  to  get  a  drink. 

When  he  had  gone  the  little  boy  climbed 


out  of  the  bag,  filled  it  up  with  stones,  and 
ran  away  home. 

When  the  man  reached  home  and  saw 
the  trick  which  had  been  played  upon  him, 
he  was  very  much  vexed.  The  next  day 
he  went  again  to  the  little  boy's  home  and 
knocked  at  the  door. 

He  said,  "  It  snows  and  it  blows  and 
it  cuts  my  nose,  please  let  me  come  in  and 
warm  my  toes,  and  light  my  pipe  and  off 
I  goes." 

"  No,  I'm  afraid  you'll  carry  me  off ! " 

"  No,  I  won't." 

"Yes,  you  will!" 

"  No,  I  won't." 

"Yes,  you  will!" 

"  No,  I  won't." 

"Yes,  you  will!" 

"  No,  I  won't." 

So  the  little  boy  let  him  in. 

He  sat  down  by  the  fire  and  warmed  his 
toes,  and  lit  his  pipe,  and  popped  the  little 
boy  into  his  bag,  and  off  he  went! 

But  the  little  boy  was  heavy,  and  the 
man.  put  the  bag  down  behind  a  stone 
while  he  took  a  little  rest.  Pretty  soon 
the  man  fell  asleep. 

As  soon  as  the  man  was  asleep,  the 
little  boy  slipped  out  of  the  bag,  filled  it 
with  sand,  and  ran  away  home. 

When  the  man  reached  home  and  found 
no  boy  in  the  bag  he  was  very  angry. 
The  next  day  he  went  to  the  little  boy's 
house,  and  knocked  at  the  door. 

"  It  snows  and  it  blows  and  it  cuts  my 
nose,  please  let  me  come  in  and  warm  my 
toes,  and  light  my  pipe  and  off  I  goes,** 
he  said. 


"  No,"  said  the  little  boy,  "  I'm  afraid 
you'll  carry  me  off." 

"  No,  I  won't." 

"Yes,  you  will!" 

"  No,  I  won't." 

"  Yes,  you  will !  * 

"  No,  I  won't." 

"Yes,  you  will!" 

"  No,  I  won't." 

So  the  little  boy  let  him  come  in. 

He  sat  down  by  the  fire  and  warmed  his 
toes,  and  lit  his  pipe,  popped  the  little  boy 
into  a  bag,  and  off  he  went ! 

This  time  he  did  not  stop  on  the  way 
home.  When  he  reached  the  house,  he  put 
the  little  boy  into  a  room,  and  locked  the 
door. 

When  the  man  had  gone,  the  little  boy 
looked  around  for  a  way  to  escape. 
Finally  he  espied  the  fireplace;,  but  just 
as  he  was  climbing  out  of  the  top  of  the 
chimney,  he  heard  the  man  coming  after 
him. 

"  Ah,  ha !  "  said  the  man,  "  I  have  you 


now,  my  fine  fellow;  how  will  you  get 
down  ?  " 

"  If  you  throw  me  up  a  rope,"  said 
the  boy,  "  I  can  tie  it  around  my  waist,  and 
you  can  pull  me  down." 

So  the  man  threw  the  rope,  and  the  boy 
caught  it.  Quickly  he  tied  it  about  the 
chimney. 

"Now  pull!  "he  called. 

The  man  pulled,  and  the  chimney  came 
down  on  top  of  him;  then  the  little  boy 
climbed  down  and  ran  home. 

Elsie  and  Bob  each  gave  a  great  sigh 
of  relief. 

"  Tell  it  again,"  said  Bob.  But  mamma 
laughed  and  shook  her  head. 

"Was  he  really  hurt,  mamma?"  asked 
Elsie. 

"  No,  dear,"  said  mamma,  "  I  think  he 
was  only  frightened,  so  that  he  did  not 
meddle  with  the  little  boy  again;  and  so 
they  lived  peacefully  ever  after." 


The  rain  is  a-pouring  and  pouring  on  Rover. 
Come  in,  Mr.  Doggie,  and  wait  till  it's  over. 

HARRIET  NUTTY. 


THE  MOON'S  TEARS 


By  LAURENCE 

I 

NCE  upon  a  time,  a 
kind  shepherd  lived 
with  his  wife  in  a 
cottage  on  a  hill. 
He  spent  each  day 
from  dawn  till  dark 
with  the  sheep  on 

the   green  hillside, 

so  he  never  knew 

what  it  was  to  feel  lonely.  But  his  wife 
had  no  one  to  keep  her  company,  for 
the  cottage  stood  far  from  any  other 
dwelling,  and  she  had  neither  neighbor 
nor  child.  In  lambtime,  it  often  hap- 
pened that  the  poor  sheep-mother  died,  and 
then  the  shepherd  would  bring  the  woolly 
orphan  to  his  wife.  Therefore,  all  the 
dark  winter  through,  she  looked  forward 
to  the  spring. 

One  March  evening,  as  she  was  hanging 
the  pot  over  the  fire,  she  looked  at  the 
snug  chimney-corners  and  said  aloud: 

"  A  boy  to  the  right,  a  girl  to  the  left ; 
that  is  what  I  want  to  see  here." 

The  words  were  still  upon  her  lips  when 
there  came  a  loud  knock  at  the  door. 

"  Open,  open,  wife ! "  cried  the  shep- 
herd, "  here  are  two  lambs  for  you !  " 

She  lifted  the  latch,  and  the  cold  wind 
blew  in  behind  the  shepherd,  who  was 
smiling  as  he  held  the  lambs  closely 
wrapped  in  his  plaid. 

"  Give  them  to  me,  give ! "  cried  the 
woman.  She  bore  them  to  the  hearth, 
and  lo!  when  she  unrolled  the  bundle  it 
held  no  lambs,  but  two  fair  little  children, 
who  sat  up  blinking  and  spread  twenty 
cold  fingers  to  the  blaze. 


ALMA  TADEMA 

Imagine  the  woman's  happiness!  The 
shepherd  had  found  them  asleep,  cradled 
in  a  mossy  hollow  between  the  roots  of  a 
tree.  They  had  curly  heads,  and  were  so 
much  alike  that  no  one  would  ever  have 
known  which  was  which,  if  the  girl  had 
not  worn  a  little  green  petticoat,  and  the 
boy  a  small  pair  of  green  breeches. 

The  shepherd's  wife  took  the  foundlings 
in  her  lap  and  covered  them  with  kisses; 
then  she  gave  them  a  good  supper  of  bread 
and  milk,  made  them  a  soft  warm  bed  in 
the  old  oak  chest,  and  sat  beside  them  until 
they  fell  asleep  smiling. 

For  many  days  the  foster  parents  ex- 
pected some  rich  stranger  to  appear  and 
carry  off  their  treasures ;  but  nobody  came 
within  sight  of  the  cottage ;  and  before  the 
next  lambtime  they  had  almost  forgotten 
that  the  children  were  not  their  very  own. 

The  two  were  always  hand  in  hand. 
Bud  and  Sis  they  called  each  other.  They 
were  given  the  tenderest  love,  and  the 
shepherd  and  his  wife  believed  them  to  be 
happy. 

II 

One  day  Bud  said  to  Sis : 

"  I  know  that  great  kingdoms  lie  beyond 
the  meadows." 

"  No,  Bud,"  she  replied ;  "  the  woods  lie 
beyond  the  meadows." 

"  We  are  very  unhappy,"  said  Bud  then. 
"  The  cat  can  roam  where  she  pleases ;  you 
and  I  must  always  keep  within  sight  of 
this  cottage;  yet  there  are  things  in  the 
world  besides  shepherds  and  sheep  and 
green  fields." 


PKITE  •  STEPPED  •  OUT- 


TEat  nigfit  wHen  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shep- 
herd were  asleep,  Bud  helped  Sis  to  climb 
out  of  the  chest,  and  they  went  and  sat  in 
their  nightgowns  by  the  hearth.  The  fire 
was  not  quite  out,  the  embers  cast  a  red 
glow  through  the  room.  Puss  was  asleep 
close  to  the  warm  ashes,  with  her  eyes 
^ihut  tight  afld  her  paws  neatly  tucked  in. 

"  If  I  were  the  cat,"  whispered  Bud,  "  I 
know  what  I  should  be  doing ! " 

One  of  the  smouldering  logs  here  fell 
asunder  and  a  little  flame  darted  out  of  the 
hollow.  It  looked  like  a  flame,  yet  presently 
the  children  saw  a  tiny  arm  come  out  of 
it,  and  cling  to  the  log ;  then  a  small  face 
appeared,  and  there  in  the  midst  of  the 
fire  stood  a  whole  little  being,  the  smallest 
and  the  brightest  they  had  ever  beheld. 

"  Good-evening ! "  cried  the  sprite. 
"  Where  is  the  little  boy  who  wants  to  be 
a  cat?" 

"It's  I  am  the  little  boy,"  answered 
Bud.  "  I  should  be  glad  to  be  a  cat." 

"  Then  I  must  be  a  cat  too,  please,  sir," 
said  Sis,  "  for  he's  my  brother." 

The  sprite  stepped  out  of  the  fire,  drag- 
ging behind  him  a  string  of  blue  trans- 
parent beads. 

"Once  in  a  thousand  years,"  said  he, 
"the  moon  cries  over  the  world,  and  I 
gather  her  tears.  Each  tear  cast  into  fire 
or  water  will  make  of  you  a  different 
being.  But  first  you  must  say: 

"  Moon's  tears,  moon's  tears, 
Wait  again  a  thousand  years — > 
Water  drown,  and  frizzle  fire, 
Give  me  now  my  heart's  desire !  " 

ois  bent  forward,  putting  her  hand  down 
for  the  pretty  beads,  which  the  sprite, 
standing  on  tiptoes,  held  up;  and  the 
children  had  hardly  thanked  'iim  before 
he  stepped  *»ck  into  the  fire  and  was 


"  I  shall  let  you  wear  the  beads,  Sis/' 
said  Bud,  "  for  boys  don't  wear  such 
things."  But  he  first  took  one  bead  off  the 
string,  and  holding  his  little  sister's  hand, 
said: 

"  Moon's  tears,  moon's  tears, 
Wait  again  a  thousand  years — 
Water  drown,  and  frizzle  fire, 
Give  me  now  my  heart's  desire !  " 

Then  he  threw  the  blue  bead  into  the 
hottest  part  of  the  fire. 

"  Cats,  cats !  "  laughed  he ;  "  we  shall  be 
cats  now ! " 

The  moon's  tear  frizzled  in  the  fire,  and 
the  children,  crouching  on  the  hearth,  felt 
that  they  were  shrinking. 

"  O  Bud !  "  cried  Sis,  "  look  down  at 
your  hands !  They  are  growing  black  and 
furry." 

"O  Sis!"  cried  Bud,  "look  at  your 
eyes!  They  are  growing  round  and 
green." 

"  O  Bud !  "  cried  Sis,  "  your  whiskers 
are  tickling  my  face !  " 

"  O,  Sis,"  cried  Bud,  "  curl  your  tail 
round  the  other  way ! " 

Alas  for  the  shepherd's  wife  if  she  had 
waked !  There  were  no  pretty  children  by 
the  hearth  now,  but  two  strange  cats  sat 
purring  side  by  side. 

Presently  Bud  got  up  and  stretched 
himself. 

"  Come,"  said  he,  "  I  am  hungry !  "  and 
with  one  bound  he  leaped  to  the  larder 
shelf,  and  began  to  lap  up  the  milk. 

"  Don't,  don't !  "  miaued  Sis ;  "  that  is 
to-morrow's  breakfast !  "  But  Bud  was  a 
greedy  cat  and  took  his  fill  before  he 
jumped  again  to  the  floor. 

"  I  shall  just  wash  my  face  a  little,  then 
we  can  be  off,"  said  he. 

There  was  an  old  rat-hole  in  the  back 
door,  and  they  soon  wriggled  out  into 


the  yard.  The  moon  shone,  the  stars 
twinkled,  the  earth  was  dry  and  cold  with 
frost;  gaily  the  children  capered  off  into 
the  meadows  and  began  to  play  about, 
springing  head  over  heels  and  darting 
after  each  other's  tails,  like  the  two  mad 
kittens  they  were  now. 


of  the  frozen  leaves  beneath  their  stealthy 
feet. 

"Does  no  one  live  in  the  woods?" 
asked  Sis.  "  I  thought  there  would  have 
been  a  nightingale." 

"I  believe,"  said  Bud,  "that  you  are 
afraid." 


ULP!  YULP!  WENT-HIS  •  JAWS 


"O,"  cried  Bud,  "I  am  glad  to  be  a 
cat,  I  shall  be  a  cat  forever ! "  Then  he 
bounded  away  to  the  woods  with  his  tail 
in  the  air,  and  his  little  sister  after  him. 

The  woods  were  dark  and  silent;  the 
only  sound  they  heard  was  the  crackling 


"  O  no,  I  don't  mind  the  dark,"  answered 
the  little  sister,  "  but  is  there  nobody  at 
all  here?" 

They  paused  and  pricked  up  their  soft 
ears :  they  stood  quite  still  peering  into  the 
dark  with  all  their  might:  yes,  it  was  a 


footstep  they  heard — a  footstep  different 
from  their  own.  The  little  cats  began  to 
shiver.  Among  the  rustling  leaves  a  large 
strange  creature  was  creeping  toward 
them,  whose  eyes,  like  little  lanterns  hover- 
ing side 'by  side,  grew  larger  and  greener 
and  brighter :  closer  and  closer  they  came, 
until  a  great  gray  wolf  stood  before  them, 
breathing  in  their  faces. 

"  Yulp,  yulp !  "  went  his  jaws,  but  with 
a  loud  screech  the  two  cats  sprang  away, 
right  and  left,  scrambling  up  two  tall  trees. 
The  only  thing  Mr.  Wolf  got  for  supper 
that  night  was  the  tip  of  Bud's  tail;  and 
he  presently  went  back  to  sulk  in  his  den. 

It  was  long  before  the  children  dared 
to  speak. 

"  Miau !  "  cried  Sis,  "  where  are  you, 
Bud?" 

"  Miau !  "  cried  Bud,  "  where  are  you, 
Sis?" 

"Bud!  shall  we  go  home?" 

"  I  don't  mind  if  I  do,"  said  Bud.  So 
home  they  crept.  The  beads  were  still 
round  Sissy's  neck;  they  took  one,  and 
threw  it  down  the  well. 

"  Moon's  tears,  moon's  tears, 
Wait  again  a  thousand  years — 
Water  drown,  and  frizzle  fire, 
Give  me  now  my  heart's  desire !  " 

As  Bud  spoke  the  last  words,  their  furry 
coats  began  to  disappear,  and  they  felt  that 
they  were  growing. 

"  Quick,  Bud !  "  cried  Sis,  "  or  we  shall 
•ae  too  big  for  the  hole  in  the  door." 
x  They  were  too  big  already;  and  they 
spent  the  rest  of  that  night  shivering  be- 
hind the  woodstack  in  their  nightgowns, 
with  their  arms  around  each  other. 

When  the  shepherd  found  them  there 
morning,  he  fetched  a  birch  rod  to 
them  for  having  tried,  as  he  thought, 

run  away;  but  his  wife  stayed  his  arrr 


"They  are  not  ours,"  she  cried,  "they 
are  but  lent  to  us  awhile.  How  do  we 
know  what  their  needs  are  ?  Perhaps  we 
have  not  loved  them  enough." 

So  she  forgave  them  her  heart's  pain, 
warmed  them  well,  fed  them,  kissed  them, 
and  put  them  into  the  chest  for  a  good 
sleep;  but  first  she  mended  a  funny  little 
tear  there  was  at  the  back  of  Bud's  night- 
gown, just  below  his  waist. 


Ill 

The  next  night,  when  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Shepherd  were  fast  asleep,  Bud  said  to 
Sis: 

"We  made  a  mistake.  I  don't  really 
care  about  being  a  cat.  Squirrels  are 
happier;  they  can  jump  from  tree  to  tree 
and  need  never  run  on  the  ground  at  all." 

So  sayuig,  he  took  one  of  the  beads  and 
burnt  it 

What  would  the  shepherd's  wife  have 
said,  had  she  waked  and  seen  those  squir- 
rels sitting  up  quite  at  home  by  the  fire? 
She  ne?Jer  could  have  said  they  were  not 
pretty.  They  had  sunny  coats,  large  dark 
eyes,  and  bear.tiful  furry  tails  folded  right 
along  their  backs. 

Bud  fetched  two  nuf  from  the  crock 
in  the  larder,  and  they  -ate  their  supper 
comfortably  before  starting  fot  Jf-  wood* 
through  the  hole  in  the  door. 

"  I  am  glad  to  be  a  squirrel ! "  cried  Bttv! 
as  he  ran  ahead  in  little  leaps,  his  out- 
stretched tail  just  lifted  off  the  grass.  "  I 
shall  be  a  squirrel  for  ever !  " 

But  they  had  not  gone  half  way  to  the 
woods  when  their  teeth  began  to  chatter. 

"  O  Bud !  "  cried  Sis,  "  k  am  so  cold !  " 

"O  Sis!"  cried  Bud,  "so  am  I!" 

A  wise  old  sheep,  the  wisest  of  the  floc\ 
heard  them. 

"B-a-a-a-a!"  said  she.    "Come  here 


and  warm  yourself  in  my  wool.  What 
are  you  doing  out  of  doors  at  this  time  of 
year,  eh?"' 

Bud  and  Sis  curled  themselves  up  beside 
her;  they  felt  too  cold  to  speak,  but  she 
went  on  talking  all  the  same. 

"  Don't  you  know,  stupids,  that  squir- 
rels ought  to  lie  asleep  all  the  winter  ?  A 
warm  hollow  tree  is  the  proper  place  for 
you.  What  are  you  going  to  do  now,  eh  ? 
If  you  don't  make  haste  and  hide  your- 
selves, the  hawk  will  have  you  both;  I 
heard  him  cry  out  just  now  that  he  was 
hungry." 

"  Bud,"  whispered  Sis,  "  shall  we  ask 
the  kind  lady  to  see  us  home?  " 

"  No,  no,"  answered  Bud,  "  for  I  dare 
say  she  tells  the  shepherd  everything. 
Come  along  with  me." 

So  they  just  said  "Thank  you,"  and 
bounded  homeward  as  fast  as  ever  they 
could;  their  freezing  limbs  could  hardly 
carry  them,  yet  they  managed  to  creep  in 
at  the  back  door,  and  Bud,  seizing  his 
sister's  tail  in  his  teeth,  dragged  her  to  the 
fire  and  rubbed  her  warm  again. 

"  O !  "  said  Sis,  "  I  thought  that  I  was 
dead !  "  And  presently  when  the  bead  was 
burnt,  and  the  children  lay  huddled  to- 
gether in  the  chest,  Bud  said :  "  Of  course 
it  was  very  nice  to  be  a  squirrel;  but  I 
think  we  shall  be  birds  next  time." 


IV 

For  a  month  or  two  the  children  were 
so  good  and  gentle  that  the  shepherd's 
wife  loved  them  more  than  ever.  But  one 
spring  morning  they  hardly  touched  their 
porridge  at  breakfast,  and  she  thought  they 
were  fretting;  so  with  many  a  kiss  she 
sent  them  out  to  play  in  the  sunshine,  and 
hastened  through  her  scrubbing  so  that 
she  might  cook  them  a  good  dinner. 


At  midday  they  were  both  behind  the 
woodstack,  watching  the  cottage  roof. 
They  were  waiting  for  the  first  swallow; 
and  behold  he  came  that  very  morning, 
bringing  his  wife  with  him.  The  weary 
birds,  flying  low,  swooped  up  to  the  chim- 
ney stack  and  sat  still  awhile;  then  they 
began  to  twitter,  and  to  preen  the  brave 
wings  that  had  brought  them  over  seas. 
Thereupon  Bud  stood  up,  took  off  his 
sister's  necklace,  and  dropped  a  bead  into 
the  water  bucket.  He  had  not  forgotten 
the  words: 

"  Moon's  tears,  moon's  tears, 
Wait  again  a  thousand  years- — 
Water  drown,  and  frizzle  fire, 
Give  me  now  my  heart's  desire !  " 

"  We  shall  be  swallows  soon ! "  cried 
he 

"Bud!  Sis!"  called  the  shepherd's 
wife,  '*  come  to  dinner,  my  lambs !  There 
are  dumplings  full  of  currants,  and  treacle 
pies."  But  the  children  never  answered. 
When  she  went  out  into  the  yard  to  fetch 
them,  she  saw  the  blue  shimmer  of  two 
birds  that  rose  from  the  woodstack  and 
flew  right  away,  over  her  head.  She  re- 
membered all  her  life  that  she  had  lost 
the  children  the  day  the  swallows  came 
back. 

Bud  and  Sis  flew  away  in  silence,  over 
the  meadows,  over  the  woods;  they  had 
never  been  so  happy  The  sun  was  upon 
them;  their  wings  beat  the  soft  air;  they 
were  not  far  above  the  earth,  yet  they 
seemed  more  than  half-way  between  the 
earth  and  the  heavens.  Beyond  the  woods 
came  a  valley,  and  they  saw  a  river  wind 
its  way  towards  a  distant  city.  The  air 
grew  warmer  and  warmer  as  they  flew 
down  from  the  heights. 

For  seven  days  they  flew,  and  rested 
seven  nigh's ;  the  glittering  vision  seemed 


THKY    WERB    WAITING    FO«    TH*    FIBST    SWALLOWS 


to  fly  before  them,  yet  they  wcit  still 
happy.  At  last  one  day  they  found  them- 
selves perched  upon  the  city's  tallest 
tower;  and  a  wonderful  sight  it  was  they 
gazed  upon.  The  roofs  of  the  houses 
were  all  of  gold  and  silver,  the  walls  were 
of  jasper,  of  onyx,  and  of  jade;  the  win- 
dows were  of  crystal,  the  doors  of  ivory 
and  scented  sandal-wood;  and  precious 
stones  glistened  and  shone  on  every  nail. 

"  O  Sis !  "  cried  Bud,  "  we  need  never 
see  the  shepherd's  cot  again !  " 

"  O  Bud !  "  cried  Sis,  "  I  shall  stay  with 
you,  always." 

Then  they  flew  down  to  the  king's 
palace.  The  king  and  queen  were  walk- 
ing in  the  garden;  their  clothes  were  so 
rich  and  heavy  that  they  could  not  carry 
them  alone;  there  were  pages  all  around 
them,  train-bearers,  mantel-bearers,  sleeve- 
bearers,  chain-bearers;  they  walked  sol- 
emnly, slowly,  amid  the  loveliest  flowers; 
but  they  were  pale,  and  they  never  smiled. 
On  either  side  of  them,  in  stately  rows, 
walked  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the 
court.  Bud  and  Sis  had  never  looked 
upon  so  many  people  before. 

Presently  a  band  of  dancers  was  seen 
coming  along  a  side  alley  roofed  with 
roses ;  the  king  and  queen  and  all  the 
court  sat  down  upon  the  green  grass  and 
watched  the  dancing.  When  it  was  ended, 
they  took  off  their  rings  and  threw  them 
at  the  dancers.  Then  the  whole  court 
rose  and  went  indoors. 

"  Sis !  "  said  Bud,  "  you  and  I  will  be 
dancers  too  and  dance  before  the  king  and 
queen ;  they  will  cover  us  with  jewels,  we 
shall  dance  so  beautifully;  and  then  we 
can  be  rich,  and  live  here  forever." 

He  had  hardly  spoken  before  something 
went  "  Ping,  ping  "  against  their  breasts, 
and  the  two  little  swallows  dropped  breath- 
less from  the  branch  wher*  they  were 


THE 


perching.  There  were  no  biids  allowed 
in  the  king's  garden,  so  the  gardener  had 
shot  them  with  his  pea-shooter;  but,  see- 
ing they  were  strange  birds,  he  took  them 
at  once  to  the  palace. 

"  Send  for  the  bird-stuffer !  "  said  the 
queen.  "  They  are  just  what  I  want  for 
my  new  hat." 

So  Bud  and  Sis  were  laid,  side  by  side, 
on  their  h*"^,  upon  a  shelf  in  the  ante- 


room, and  left  for  dead;  but  the  pea- 
shooter had  only  stunned  them,  and  Sis 
had  heard  every  word,  so  she  pecked  Bud 
till  he  awoke  and  told  him  all.  In  a  trice 
he  had  taken  one  of  the  moon's  tears — for 
the  beads  shrank  with  the  children  and 
never  left  them;  there  was  no  water  in 
this  room,  but  a  little  lamp  burned  over  ;he 
door,  so  he  flew  up  with  the  Dead  m  his 
beak  and  burned  it 


"Dancers,  that  is  what  we  shall  be 
aow !  "  cried  he.  "  Dancers  to  the  king !  " 

Their  wings  fell  off  immediately,  and 
they  felt  themselves  growing  taller  than 
they  had  ever  been  before, 

"O  Bud!"  cried  Sis,  "how  beautiful 
you  are ! " 

"  O  Sis !  "  cried  Bud,  "  it  is  you  that  are 
beautiful ! " 

When  the  bird-stuffer  came  to  skin  the 
swallows,  he  saw  before  him  the  loveliest 
youth  and  maiden  that  ever  yet  were  seen. 
Their  skin  was  as  white  as  new  milk,  their 
eyes  were  as  blue  as  the  sky  in  June,  and 
their  hair  was  the  color  of  flame. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  cried  the  bird-stuffer. 

"  Please,  sir,"  answered  Bud  politely, 
"we  are  strangers  who  wish  to  dance  be- 
fore the  king." 

"Ho-ho!"  thought  the  man,  "I  shall 
get  a  reward  for  this !  "  So  he  fetched  his 
trumpet  and  told  the  children  to  follow. 


The  court  had  finished  supper,  and  was 
assembled  in  the  Hall  of  Wonders. 
"  Too-too-roo-too-roo-too !  "  went  the 
trumpet.  The  crowd  fell  apart  and  Bud 
and  Sis,  blinded  by  the  splendor  of  what 
they  saw,  found  themselves  in  the  presence 
of  the  king. 

"  My  liege !  "  cried  the  bird-stuffer,  "  I 
bring  your  majesty  the  Marvel  of  the 
World.  What  is  my  reward  ?  " 

The  king  took  aff  three  rows  of 
emeralds  and  threw  them  at  the  man,  who 
bowed  and  left  the  hall  hastily. 

"  Who  are  you  ? "  asked  the  queen, 
while  hundreds  of  eyes  stared,  amazed  at 
the  beauty  of  the  children. 

"  We  are  your  dancers,  madam,"  replied 
Bud. 

-  Dance,  then ! "  cried  the  king. 


The  floor  on  which  the  children  stood 
immediately  began  to  rise;  the>  round 
themselves  alone  on  the  island  in  a  sea 
of  upturned  faces,  and  tl  e  air  was  quiver- 
ing with  unseen  music.  Poor  little  Sis 
folded  her  hands  together;  a  great  fear 
seized  her  lest  she  might  not  know  how 
to  dance.  But  the  music  was  so  lovely  and 
so  enticing  that  soon  her  feet  began  to 
twinkle  and  her  arms  to  wave  about  like 
water  weeds  in  a  stream;  her  hair,  too, 
began  to  dance  all  alone,  now  as  if  blown 
by  the  wind,  now  encircling  her  with 
snake-like  ringlets;  and  her  body,  never 
still,  bent  and  swayed  and  swung  to  and 
fro,  as  wildly  as  a  reed  in  the  gale,  as 
gentle  as  a  spray  of  blossoms  in  the  breeze. 
She  felt  that  Bud  was  dancing  with  her ; 
sometimes  their  hands  met,  or  their  arms 
entwined;  now  and  again  he  caught  her 
round  the  waist  and  whirled  her  into  the 
air  like  an  autumn  leaf.  She  danced  on 
and  on  until  nothing  seemed  above  or  be- 
low her,  and  the  lamps  became  glittering 
streams  of  light  that  enlaced  her  as  she 
whirled  free  of  the  earth ;  the  murmuring 
of  the  crowd  told  her  that  she  was  danc- 
ing as  no  mortal  maid  had.  ever  danced 
before. 

Suddenly  there  burst  from  that  sea  of 
faces  the  roaring  and  howling  of  an  awful 
tempest,  and  she  fell,  hit  by  something 
hard  and  cold.  What  was  it  that  hit 
her?  Again.  .  .  .  again.  .  .  .  She  raised 
an  arm  to  shield  her  face,  while  her  cries 
were  drowned  in  the  clang  and  clatter 
and  jangle  of  the  jewels  that  rained  upon 
her  from  every  side. 

"  O  Bud !  "  cried  the  poor  little  dancer, 
"  save  me !  save  me !  " 

Still  they  fell — chains  of  gold,  ropes  of 
pearl ;  diadems  of  diamonds,  until  the  chil- 
dren lay  buried  beneath  a  glittering 
mound. 


VI 


It  Vc*s  night  when  the  king  returned  to 
the  dark  and  silent  hall,  secretly,  bring- 
ing with  him  a  lantern  and  the  grave-dig- 
ger. 

"  Dig  out  these  dancers,"  said  he ;  "  you 
shall  have  a  hundred  rubies  if  you  dig 
them  out  alive." 

So  the  man  took  his  spade  and  shoveled 
away  the  jewels  until  the  poor  children 
were  released.  They  stood  up  hand  in 
hand,  and  Sis  was  crying.  "  I  want  a  wife 
for  my  son,"  said  the  king.  "  For  what 
sum  would  you  sell  your  sister  ?  " 

"Sell  my  sister?"  cried  Bud.  "Sell 
my  sister  ?  " 

"  You  shall  have  half  my  jewels  and  half 
my  kingdom,"  said  the  king  to  Sis  then, 
"  if  you  will  marry  my  son." 

"  O,  sire !  "  replied  she,  "  your  son  is  a 
stranger  to  me.  How  can  I  marry  with- 
out love?" 

The  king  looked  puzzled. 

"What  is  love?"  asked  he.  "  I  offer 
you  every  jewel  known  to  me;  is  love  the 
jewel  of  your  country?  If  so  I  shall  send 
my  merchants  to  buy  me  a  shipload,  and 
you  shall  have  it  all." 

Bud  and  Sis  burst  out  laughing.  "  You 
cannot  buy  love,"  said  they. 

Now  the  king  had  never  seen  anyone 
laugh  before,  and  it  made  him  very  angry; 
so  he  blew  his  whistle  for  the  guards  and 
sent  the  poor  little  dancers  off  to  prison.  ' 

Prison  was  dark  and  cold;  the  children 
sat  down  upon  the  stones  and  put  their 
arms  around  each  other. 

"  O  Bud !  "  cried  Sis,  "  I  wish  we  were 
by  the  fire  at  home." 

"  O  Sis !  "  cried  Bud,  "  it  is  very  lonely 
Sire!" 

And  they  both  thought  of  the  shepherd's 
"*ife  who  had  loved  them. 


The  fire-sprite  could  not  help  them  now ; 
the  moon's  tears  were  round  Sissy's  neck, 
but  there  was  neither  fire  nor  water  in  the 
dungeon. 

"  How  could  we  get  away?  "  asked  Sis, 
"  without  a  hole  to  fly  out  of  ?  " 

"  There  is  a  hole,"  replied  Bud,  "  there 
is  the  key-hole;  we  could  get  out  if  we 
were  spiders." 

They  hugged  each  other  a  little  more 
closely,  and  when  presently  Sis  began  to 
cry,  Bud  was  not  ashamed  to  cry  with  her. 

VII 

Then  a  wonderful  thing  happened. 
They  heard  a  curious  hissing  sound;  one 
of  Bud's  tears  had  fallen  upon  his  sister's 
neck,  and  wetted  a  bead. 

"Quick!"  cried  Bud,  "we  will  be 
spiders  now ! " 

"  Moon's  tears,  moon's  tears, 
Wait  again  a  thousand  years — 
Water  drown,  and  frizzle  fire, 
Give  me  now  my  heart's  desire ! " 

Instantly  they  began  to  shrink. 

"  O  Bud! "  cried  Sis,  "  I  believe  I  can 
see  in  the  dark !  " 

"  O  Sis !  "  cried  Bud,  "  I  see  an  enor- 
mous hole  in  the  door,  but  it's  very  high 
up." 

They  had  eight  legs  apiece  now,  so  they 
soon  scuttled  up  to  the  key-hole  and  let 
themselves  down  on  thick  ropes  of  their 
own  spinning.  The  passage  looked  so 
high  that  they  could  not  see  the  roof;  it 
was  as  wide  as  a  great  river,  and  the  two 
little  spiders  hastened  along,  keeping  close 
to  the  wall.  They  had  not  gone  far  before 
they  saw  a  band  of  giants  coming  in  the 
distance. 

"Let  us  climb  upon  them/'  said  Bud, 
"  that  they  may  take  us  out  into  the  air." 


"SHE'S  •  BEEH-CRYIMG*  WHISPERED  •  SIS  - 


The  guards  grew  larger  and  larger  as 
they  drew  nearer,  until,  when  they  stood 
to  talk  a  minute,  nothing  was  visible  to  the 
spider-children  but  the  enormous  heels  of 
their  boots,  which  seemed  to  stand  as  high 
as  houses.  On  to  one  of  these  Bud  now 
pushed  his  sister,  and  while  the  man  strode 
along  the  passage  and  up  the  stairs,  they 
both  had  time  to  climb  up  him. 

"What's  this  tickling  my  neck?"  said 
the  guard.  But  by  the  time  his  great  hand 
appeared,  the  spiders  had  reached  the  brim 
of  his  hat,  which  blew  away  as  soon  as 
ever  he  reached  the  yard.  Before  he  could 
pick  it  up,  Bud  and  Sis  were  safely  lodged 
in  a  chink  between  two  stones. 

So  far  all  had  been  well,  but  there  was 
neither  fire  nor  water  in  sight,  so  the  poor 
little  things,  after  a  short  rest,  trudged  off 
in  search  of  the  garden.  It  took  them  a 
whole  day  to  find  the  fountain,  and  the 
sun  was  setting  when  at  last  the  moon's 
tears  gave  them  their  swallows'  wings 
again.  Although  it  was  almost  dark,  they 
could  not  sleep  in  this  city,  where  love 
had  never  been ;  so  they  flew  by  moonlight 
to  a  wood,  and  there  roosted  in  the  shelter 
of  green  leaves. 

6ach  morning  they  started  early  on  their 


flight  to  the  highlands  where  home  lay. 
They  did  not  often  speak,  for  they  were 
very  tired ;  but  when  they  spoke  it  was  of 
sheep  and  shepherd,  of  the  cottage,  of  the 
hearth,  and  of  the  shepherd's  wife. 


VIII 

At  sundown  on  the  seventh  day  they  be- 
held the  wood  where,  long  ago  it  seemed, 
they  had  rambled  on  their  cat-night.  No 
swallows  coming  from  over  seas  had  ever 
been  so  weary. 

"  O  Bud !  "  cried  Sis,  "  I  think  I  hear 
the  ripple  of  a  brook !  " 

"O  Sis!"  cried  Bud,  "give  me  the 
beads."  And  before  the  sun  was  out  of 
sight,  there  beside  the  brook,  close  to  the 
tree  where  the  shepherd  had  first  found 
them,  they  became  little  children  again. 

"  This  time,"  said  Sis  "  we  shall  be  our 
own  selves  forever !  " 

The  beads  were  still  in  Bud's  hands; 
there  were  just  three  left. 

"  We  would  better  keep  these,"  said  he  ; 
"  we  may  want  them  again."  And  in  spite 
of  his  sister's  prayers  he  put  them  in  his 
pocket.  Then  they  started  hand  in  hand 
across  the  meadows,  cheered  by  ™e  'tis- 


tent  speck  of  light  that  twinkled  in  the 
gloaming. 

The  shepherd  and  his  wife  were  having 
supper  when  the  children  stood  on  the 
chopping-block  outside  the  window,  and 
looked  in. 

"  She's  been  crying,"  whispered  Sis. 
.  "There's  bread  and  milk  for  supper," 
whispered  Bud.     And,  holding  his  sister 
by  the  hand,  he  opened  the  cottage  door. 

"  Mother,"  said  he,  "  are  there  any 
dumplings  left?" 

Which  cried  and  which  laughed  most, 
no  one  could  ever  tell,  for  they  all  laughed 
cried  together.    The  shepherd  forgot 


to  fetch  the  birck,  as  he  had  always  meant 
to  do,  and  the  children,  upon  their  foster 
parents'  knees,  supped  happily  in  their 
dear  home. 

That  night  when  all  was  dark  and  still, 
Sis  waked  to  find  herself  alone  in  the  oak 
chest;  Bud  was  gone,  and  the  little  girl's 
heart  began  to  throb  with  fear.  She  sat 
up,  but  before  she  had  time  to  follow  her 
brother,  she  heard  him  clambering  up  the 
side  of  the  bed. 

"O  Bud!"  she  whispered,  "why  did 
you  open  the  back  door  ?  " 

"  To  throw  the  moon's  tears  into  the 
water  bucket !  "  said  he. 


BED-TIME 

child,  if  you  would  well-bred 


be, 

These  simple  rules  learn  carefully: 
In  going  to  bed,  be  sure  with  care 
Your  clothes  to  hang  upon  a  chair. 
Your  tie  or  ribbons  smooth  and  fold  t     ^ju 

So  they'll  be  fresh  e'en  though  they're  old.  1 

Brush  well  your  teeth  :  like  shining  pearls 
Should  glow  the  mouths  of  boys  and  girls. 
Wash  face  and  hands  ;  smooth  out  your  hair, 
And  kneel  to  say  your  evening  prayer. 
Then  prancing  into  bed  you  go  — 
A  well-bred  child  from  crown  to  toe. 


KATHARINE 

NKWBOLD 

BIRJMAU 


BEAN   BAG  GAMES 


IE  AN  bags  are  splendid  sum- 
mer companions.  When  you 
tire  of  other  sports,  or  have 
to  keep  in  the  shade  or  on  the 
piazza  for  any  reason,  make  some  bean- 
bags  and  try  the  following  games. 

A  good  size  for  the  bag  is  six  inches 
square.  Any  scraps  of  gingham  or  strong 
muslin  will  do  to  make  the  bags.  If  your 
material  is  thin,  use  it  double.  Stitch 
together  carefully  with  a  "  backstitch,"  or 
by  machine,  leaving  half  of  one  side  open 
to  put  the  beans  in.  If  you  have  no  round 
white  beans  in  the  house,  they  are  easy 
to  get  from  the  grocer,  and  very  cheap. 
A  pint  will  make  two  good  bean  bags. 
Carefully  overhand  the  hole  together. 

THREE-CORNERED  CATCH 
Or  it  may  be  four  or  five-cornered,  de- 
pending upon  the  number  of  persons  play- 
ing. For  the  three-cornered  game  two 
bags  should  be  used,  the  players  to  stand 
in  a  triangle  as  far  apart  as  they  can  throw 
quickly  and  well.  Throw  to  the  person 
on  the  left  as  quickly  as  possible.  The  ob- 
ject is  to  get  two  bags  at  the  same  time 
to  one  person,  which  makes  him  lose  ten 
points.  A  poor  throw  (less  than  three- 
fourths  of  the  distance  to  the  catcher) 
loses  five  for  the  pitcher.  A  poor  catch 
on  a  throw  more  than  three-quarters  of 
loses  five  for  the  catcher. 


the 


The  game  is  won  by  the  one  wnu  Las 
the  lowest  count  when  the  players  are 
tired.  Four  persons,  or,  in  fact,  any  num- 
ber, may  play ;  increase  the  number  of  bean 
bags  as  the  number  of  players  increases. 

HURDLES 

Tie  a  cord  to  one  corner  of  a  bean  bag. 
The  players  form  a  circle  about  the  Ring- 
master, who  holds  the  cord  and  swings  the 
bag  in  a  circle  on  the  floor  or  grass.  Each 
player  in  the  ring  must  jump  over  the  bag 
as  it  reaches  him.  Those  who  do  not  jump 
quickly  enough  are  "  counted  out "  and 
must  leave  the  circle.  It  takes  practice  to 
swing  the  bag  well,  also  to  jump  quickly 
and  with  judgment. 

HOOPLE-HOP 

Tie  strings  across  the  hoople  to  make 
four  equal  sections,  and  hang  the  hoople 
from  the  limb  of  a  tree,  or  in  a  doorway. 
The  object  is  to  stand  nine  or  more  feet 
away  and  throw  the  bean  bag  through  each 
of  the  four  holes,  to  the  other  player,  with- 
out touching  either  the  hoople  or  the  cord. 
A  count  of  ten  for  the  thrower  is  made 
for  each  successful  throw ;  five,  if  the  bag 
goes  through,  but  touches  somewhere. 
The  catcher  counts  ten  if  he  catches  the 
bag  when  it  hits  the  hoople  or  string  (as 
this  makes  its  direction  waver,  and  so  it  is 
harder  to  catch).  The  catcher  counts  five 
when  he  catches  a  clear  throw  (on  which 
the  thrower  counts  ten}.  The  thrower  be- 
comes the  catcher  after  the  thrower  has 
had  one  try  for  each  space.  The  game  is 
two  hundred.  Any  number  may  play  by 
taking  turns,  each  being  pitcher  and 
catcher  an  equal  number  of  times. 

The  game  may  be  made  more  exciting 
and  harder  by  making  iiie  spaces  ;^  the 
hoople  half-size,  or  in  eighths. 


1UJ1 


Pigeon 


By  LOUISE   OCTAVIAN 


IITTLE  John  Carleton  was  so 
absent-minded  that  no  one  ever 
knew  what  he  was  going  to  do 
next.  "A  regular  John-a- 
dreams,"  declared  papa.  An^  ',he  school- 
boys were  tired  of  shouting  after  him : 

"  Diddle,  diddle  dumpling,  my  son,  John, 
Went  to  bed  with  his  stockings  on. 
One  shoe  off,  one  shoe  on, 
Diddle,  diddle  dumpling,  my  son,  John." 

But,  oh,  dear  me !  This  dreaming  John 
did  far  worse  things  than  going  to  bed 
with  his  stockings  on.  He  was  always 
thinking  so  very  hard  about  something 
else  that  he  never  had  any  thoughts  left 
for  the  thing  he  was  doing,  and  thus  many 
and  varied  were  his  mishaps. 

One  Sunday  morning  papa  and  mamma 


had  company,  and  the  children  were  going 
to  church  alone. 

"  Now,  Bert,"  said  mamma,  "  don't 
wiggle.  And  Edith  and  Dottie,  remem- 
ber not  to  whisper.  And  O  John-a- 
dreams,  please,  please  try  just  this  once 
not  to  do  anything  dreadful." 

"  Yes,  ma,"  said  John-a-dreams. 

"  Better  take  a  nap,  Johnnie,"  said  papa. 
"  Sleeping  dreams  are  safer  than  waking 
ones." 

"  Yes,  pa,"  said  John-a-dreams. 

The  church  was  warm,  and  the  sermon 
very  long.  Just  in  front  of  John  sat  a 
little  old  lady,  who  looked  as  though  she 
might  be  a  very  nice  grandma. 

"  I  wish  I  had  a  grandma,"  thought 
John,  sleepily  counting  the  buttons  on  the 
back  of  her  cape. 


'"Pretty  soon  the  old  lady  began  to  nod 
gently.  John  yawned  and  tried  to  count 
the  beads  on  her  bonnet.  Ten  .  .  . 
twenty  .  .  .  thirty  .  .  .  forty  .  .  .  forty- 
five  .  .  .  forty-six  .  .  .  forty-seven  .  .  . 
John-a-dreams  and  the  little  old  lady  were 
both  asleep. 

For  a  little  while  they  slumbered  peace- 
fully, then  John-a-dreams  began  to  dream 
in  earnest.  It  was  twilight  in  his  dream, 
lovely,  and  cool,  and  still.  He  was  out  in 
the  garden  watering  the  nasturtiums.  The 
new  moon  was  shining  over  his  right 
shoulder. 

"  I  will  wish,"  said  John-a-dreams. 

Suddenly  it  grew  darker,  and  a  cold 
breeze  rustled  through  the  bushes.  John- 
a-dreams  felt  queer  and  shivery.  Then 
something  came  round  the  corner  of  the 
wall — O  such  a  strange  something!  A 
wee,  fantastic  thing  it  was,  and  John-a- 
dreams  thought  it  must  be  a  hobgoblin, 
whether  a  he  hobgoblin  or  a  she  hob- 
goblin he  could  not  tell,  but  a  hobgoblin  it 
certainly  was,  and  coming  right  after  him. 
He  tried  to  run,  but  was  unable  to 
move.  Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  hob- 
goblin. John-a-dreams  screamed  wildly 
and  hit  it  in  the  head  with  the  watering- 
pot. 

Then  the  minister  stopped  preaching, 
the  girls  in  the  choir  giggled,  and  the 
whole  congregation  stared  in  amazement 
at  the  Carleton  pew,  for  John-a-dreams 
had  knocked  off  the  little  old  lady's 
bonnet ! 

Then  the  cross  old  sexton  came  hur- 
rying down  the  aisle,  and  carried  him, 
still  half  asleep,  out  of  the  church. 

"  O  John-a-dreams !  John-a-dreams !  " 
sighed  mamma,  when  she  heard  the 
dreadful  story. 


"  Papa  said  sleeping  dreams  were  safe, 
but  they  aren't,"  sobbed  John. 

Then,  to  everyone's  surprise,  there  came 
a  note  from  the  little  old  lady  inviting  John 
to  tea. 

"  I  don't  want  to  go !  I  don't  want  to 
go ! "  cried  John  in  dismay. 

"  But  you  must,"  said  mamma,  "  and 
you  must  apologize  just  as  nicely  as  ever 
you  can." 

So  at  fire  o'clock  a  very  dejected-look- 
ing boy  knocked  at  the  old  lady's  door. 
And,  O,  what  a  jolly  old  lady  she  was! 
And  what  a  merry,  merry  time  they  had! 
They  sat  down  to  a  little  round  tea-table 
covered  with  all  sorts  of  goodies.  There 
were  tiny,  sweet  biscuits,  and  delicious 
little  cakes,  and  star-shaped  cookies! 
There  was  honey!  There  was  jam! 
There  was  fragrant  black-currant  tea! 
Before  he  knew  it  John  was  telling  his 
dream  about  the  hobgoblin. 

Then  how  the  old  lady  laughed.  "  Now 
let  me  tell  you  my  dream,"  said  she,  "  for 
7  was  asleep  too,  and  surely  /  am  old 
enough  to  behave  better.  I  dreamed  I  was 
taking  tea  with  a  nice  little  old  man.  We 
were  telling  each  other  story  after  story 
of  long  ago  times,  and  having  such  a  cozy, 
comfortable  meal !  Then  I  got  up  to  fill 
the  tea-kettle,  and  the  little  old  man  hit  me 
in  the  head  with  a  pink  frosted  cake !  " 

"  That  was  when  I  hit  the  hobgoblin !  " 
cried  John. 

"  Yes,"  laughed  the  old  lady,  "  that  was 
you  hitting  the  hobgoblin." 

"  I'm  so  very,  very  sorry,  ma'am,"  said 
John,  remembering  his  apology. 

"O,  it  didn't  hurt  the  bonnet  a  bit," 
said  the  nice  old  lady,  "and  next  Sun- 
day I'll  try  to  keep  awake." 

"  So  will  I,"  said  John-a-dreams. 


THE  MAJOR'S   FOURTH  OF  JULY 

Grandpa  is  so  feeble  he  walks  with  a  cane, 

And  last  Fourth  of  July  he  sat  aching  with  pain. 

You  would  never  suspect  he  had  fought  in  the  war, 

When  he  asked  what  we  wanted  those  firecrackers  for. 

But  our  mother  remembers  when  Grandpa  returned 

From  the  war,  with  a  medal  his  gallantry  earned ; 

There  it  hangs  with  his  musket  and  sword  on  the  wall, 

With  the  Star  Spangled  banner  draped  over  them  all ; 

And  the  neighbors  call  Grandpa  "  the  Major  "  since  he 

Fought  so  bravely  to  make  this  "  the  land  of  the  free." 

But  poor  Grandfather  fretted  that  Fourth  of  July, 

And  declared  with  a  sigh  that  he  didn't  see  why 

This  particular  day  two  such  sensible  boys 

Should  insist  upon  making  a  deafening  noise; 

Saying,  as  for  his  part,  he  expected  to  choke 

With  the  horrible  smell  of  the  powder  and  smoke; 

And  then  he  declared  that  he  didn't  see  why 

Boys  should  make  such  a  fuss  about  Fourth  of  July. 

Mother  smiled  as  she  tenderly  patted  his  head, 

"  You  and  I  may  escape  all  this  tumult,"  she  said. 

"  You  shall  tell  me  a  story  of  days  long  gone  by, 

And  we  two  will  forget  it  is  Fourth  of  July." 

Still,  dear  Grandfather  watched  us  prepare  for  the  fun, 

vVith  our  crackers  and  matches  and  little  toy  gun; 

Then  when  Tom  fired  a  cracker  and  I  gave  a  shout, 

With  the  first  smell  of  powder  came  Grandfather  out ; 

And  the  way  that  he  marched  up  and  down  made  it  plain, 

That  "  the  Major  "  was  fighting  his  battles  again. 

"  Hip,  hurrah,  lads !  "  he  cried,  as  he  joined  in  the  sport, 

"  Reinforcements  have  come,  don't  surrender  the  fort  1 " 

Touched  a  match  to  our  crackers  and  fired  the  whole  lot! 

As  he  asked  us,  "  Is  this  all  the  powder  you've  got  ? 

Right  about !     Forward !     March !     Get  some  more,  double 

quick ! " 

Was  the  Major's  command  as  he  flourished  his  stick. 
"I'll  show  you,"  he  said,  with  a  flash  of  his  eye, 
"  How  patriots  celebrate  Fourth  of  July ! " 

MARY  A.  POWERS. 


Oslriches. 


CHIP  AND  MUNKEY 


By  KATHARINE  NEWBOLD  BIRDSALL 


HIPPY  wagged  his  beautiful 
tail  as  he  frisked  about  the 
cage. 

"  I  do  declare ! "  he  ex- 
claimed, stopping  to  daintily  eat  a  piece 
of  nut-meat  which  a  certain  curly-haired 
little  girl  had  thoughtfully  dropped  in  a 
few  minutes  before.  "  I  do  think  we  have 
been  shamefully  treated.  Not  that  I  blame 
Miss  Curly  Head  a  bit,  for  she's  a  dear, 
sweet  little  human  being,  and  she  has  been 
very  kind  and  considerate.  But  if  /  had 
been  building  a  cage  for  you,  my  dearest 
Munkey,  it  should  have  been  made  of  pure 
gold." 

"But  you  would  not  have  built  me  a 
cage,"  chattered  Munkey.  "You  would 
have  built  a  nest — a  soft,  warm  nest  in 
a  tree,  where  we  would  have  been  safe 
from  horrid  barking  dogs.  And  we 
would  have  been  happy  and  free  to  wan- 
der over  the  whole  wide  world,  had  we 
wished." 

"And  then,"  whispered  Chip,  drawing 
close  to  Munkey's  warm,  furry  side,  "  and 
then  we  should  have  cuddled  close  together 
at  night,  all  warm  and  cosy.  And  who 
knows  but  that  before  long  some  dear  little 
bright-eyed  babies  would  have  come  to 
cuddle  there  with  us  ?  " 

"Oh,  who  knows!"  sighed  Munkey. 
"I  should  be  ashamed — so  ashamed — to 
bring  children  up  in  a  place  like  this,"  she 
continued.  "  Why,  it  is  a  disgrace  to  a 
family  of  well-bred  Chipmunks  to  live 
here." 

Chippy  scratched  his  head  thoughtfully, 
then  wiggled  his  curving  tail  in  delight. 

"  I  have  it— I  have  it !  "  he  cried  glee- 
fully. "  J  «t  us  move  out,  my  dear." 


"  Move  out ! "  cried  his  wife,  stop- 
ping her  dusting  (which  she  accomplished 
with  her  tail).  "This  is  no  time  to 
be  joking,  husband — I  am  feeling  very 
blue." 

"  We  will  escape,"  chirped  Chippy,  kiss- 
ing his  little  wife.  "  This  house,  my  dear, 
is  not  a  regular  squirrel  house.  It  is  only 
an  old  hoop  skirt  that  belonged  to  little 
Miss  Curly  Head's  grandmother  when  she 
was  a  young  lady.  Think  of  walking  with 
a  wire  thing  like  this  fastened  to  one's 
waist !  How  awkward  you  would  find  it, 
my  dear ! " 

Munkey  shivered. 

"  Miss  Curley  Head  has  fastened  other 
wires  over  open  spots  to  keep  us  safe  in 
here — but  I  have  just  made  a  discovery. 
My  dear,  there  is  a  hole  at  the  top !  " 

Mrs.  Chipmunk  turned  her  bright  little 
eyes  upward;  sure  enough  there  was  the 
hole !  She  and  Chip  both  scrambled  up  to 
investigate,  and  found  it  quite  easy  to  poke 
not  only  their  inquisitive  little  noses 
through,  but  their  bodies  and  furry  tails 
too. 

Such  a  frisky,  jolly  time  they  had  in  the 
old  attic,  rummaging  among  old  clothes 
and  furniture,  and  exploring  every  nook 
and  cranny  in  the  place.  They  even 
scented  out  a  bag  of  nuts  left  from  the 
fall  gathering  and  helped  themselves  lib- 
erally. At  each  sound  on  the  garret  stairs 
they  scurried  back  to  the  old  hoop  skirt 
and  dashed  inside,  pretending  they  were 
still  humdrum  squirrels  and  had  not 
discovered  the  wonderful  doorway  to 
freedom. 

"How  lively  they  are!"  cried  Miss 
Curly  Head.  "  I  almost  think  I  he?p  them 


icurrying  across  the  floor  before  I  open  the 
door/' 

As  the  spring  days  warmed,  and  the 
birds  caroled  love  songs  to  their  mates, 
little  Curly  Head  would  open  the  window 
to  give  them  air,  and  then  often  forget  to 
close  it.  So  spruce  little  Chippy  and  his 
dainty  wife  with  great  heart-throbs  of  de- 
light climbed  to  the  sill.  There  before 
them  in  all  the  glory  of  its  spring  splendor 
and  the  freedom  of  nature,  lay  the  great 
world  they  had  almost  forgotten.  That 
one  sight  gave  the  little  couple  the  desire 
to  travel  and  find  a  home  more  suited  to 
their  freeborn  tastes,  and  so  they  planned 
to  run  away  from  Miss  Curly  Head. 
Night  after  night  when  human  folk  were 
dreaming  in  bed,  Chippy  and  Munkey  in- 
dustriously carried  nuts  and  seed  from  the 
bags  in  the  garret,  out  to  the  roof,  down 
a  convenient  cherry  tree  by  the  house  side, 
across  the  lawn  and  the  old  stone  wall,  to 


the  shelter  of  tht  chestnut  tree  on  the  hill. 
There  they  prepared  to  live;  they  built 
their  cosy  home  just  big  inough  for  two, 
and  perhaps  some  hoped-for  little  visitors, 
and  laid  in  a  good  stock  of  food.  Atld  all 
this  time  Miss  Curly  Head  thought  they 
were  behaving  as  well-tamed  little  chip- 
munks should ! 

Then  one  bright  day,  early  in  the  morn- 
ing when  the  sun  but  not  Miss  Curly  Head 
had  risen,  Chippy  and  Munkey  said  good- 
bye to  the  old  hoop-skirt  home  and  started 
off,  to  return  no  more. 

"  I  have  left  a  loving  kiss  with  the  old 
lady  andiron  for  dear  little  Curly  Head," 
sighed  Munkey  as  she  scrambled  up  to  the 
sill.  "  I  hate  to  have  her  think  we  do  not 
love  her  and  are  ungrateful  for  her  care; 
but  we  love  liberty  as  much  as  she  does." 

"We  are  freeborn,"  added  Chippy, 
"  and  free  we  will  live." 

So  little  Miss  Curly  Head  found  the 


old  nOOp  skirt  cage  empty  when  she  eamt 
to  feed  her  pets  that  morning,  and  search 
as  she  would  about  the  garret,  not  a  sign 
of  them  could  she  find.  Crying  bitterly 
she  ran  downstairs  to  tell  the  sad  loss  and 
bury  her  head  in  mother's  lap  for  com- 
fort. Mother  went  up  to  the  garret  to  help 
in  the  search. 

"  Why,  my  little  girlie !  "  she  exclaimed 
when  she  saw  the  old  hoop  skirt  cage. 
"  There  k.  a  big  hole  in  the  top,  dear.  I 
wonder  they  have  not  escaped  before." 
Then,  looking  out  the  window  on  the  roof 
she  saw  a  stray  nut  lodged  in  the  rain 
leader. 

"  Ah !  "  exclaimed  mother,  "  they  have 
gone  back  home  to  nature,  dear.  We  must 
not  cry,  for  they  have  gone  where  they 
came  from.  It  would  have  been  cruel  to 
keep  them  longer." 

It  was  some  time  after  that  little  Miss 
Curly  Head  discovered  her  old  pets  in  the 
chestnut  tree,  gay  and  happy  and  free. 


"  We  wiM  let  her  see  we  remember  her 
goodness,"  said  Chip.  "Let  us  go  quite 
close — and " 

"  And,"  whispered  Munkey,  her  little 
heart  overflowing  with  happiness,  "  w( 
will  tell  her  that  in  our  cosy  nest  are 
beautiful  babies,  the  like  of  which  have 
never  before  been  seen !  " 

They  thankfully  picked  up  the  food  little 
Miss  Curly  Head  threw  to  them,  and  came 
quite  near  to  her. 

"  It  seems  as  if  they  tried  to  tell  me 
something,  mother,"  cried  the  little  girl. 

"Wait  and  watch,"  said  the  wise 
mother. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  darling  chip- 
munks were  brought  out  by  Chip  and 
Munkey  for  Miss  Curly  Head  to  see — 
such  little  beauties ! 

"  Oh,  mother,  mother  1 "  cried  the  little 
girl.  "  I  would  have  let  them  go  free  long 
ago  if  I  had  known  they  would  be  so 
happy." 


THE  CIRCLETS 


JJERE  we  have  the  Circle  Children 

And  the  Circle  dog  and  cat, 
All  the  way  from  Circle  City, 
Where  the  folks  are  round  and  flat. 


They  are  coming  on  a  visit, 
And  have  promised  to  be  good ; 

So  let's  greet  them  in  a  spirit 
Of  kind  "  ko-mic-kin-der-hood." 

FREDERICK  WHITE 


DARK    PONY 


A   BED-TIME  STORY  BV  CHARLOTTE   FLACK 


NCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a 
pony  named  Dark,  who  every 
night    took    little    people    to 
Sleepytown. 
One  night  as  Dark-Pony  started  off,  he 
met  a  little  boy  named  Noddy,  who  called 
out: 

"Whoa!  Whoa!  Whoa! 
Please  let  me  go !  " 


Niddy  behind  Noddy,  and  away  they  went 
galloping — galloping — galloping. 

By  and  by  they  heard  a  little  dog  bark- 
ing: 

"  Bow-wow !  bow-wow ! 
Please  take  me  now !  " 


So  Dark-Pony  "  whoa-ed,"  and  Noddy 
hopped  up  on  his  back,  and  away  they 
went  galloping— galloping — galloping. 

Soon  they  met  a  little  girl  whose  name 
was  Niddy,  who  said : 

"  I'd  like  to  go  too ; 
Please  take  me  with  you !  " 

Dark-Pony  stopped  again  and  up  jumped 


So  Dark-Pony  waited  while  Noddy 
jumped  off  after  little  doggy,  which  he 
tucked  under  his  arm,  and  then  away  they 
went  galloping — galloping — galloping. 

Next  they  met  a  little  black  pussy-cat, 
who  cried : 

"  Me-u !  me-u ! 
I  want  to  go  too !  " 


When  Dark-Pony  stopped,  off  jumped 
Niddy  and  picked  up  pussy-cat  and  held 
her  in  her  lap  as  away  they  went  gallop- 
ing— galloping — galloping. 

As  they  were  passing  a  farmhouse,  out 
from  his  coop  flew  Mr.  Rooster  crowing, 

*  vx:k-a-doodle-doodle-doo ! 
Won't  you  please  to  take  me  too  ?  " 

When  Dark-Pony  stopped  for  Mr. 
Rooster,  he  flew  up  and  lighted  on  Dark- 
Pony's  back  behind  Niddy,  and  then  away 
they  went  galloping — galloping — gallop- 
ing. 

When  Mrs.  Hen  saw  Mr.  Rooster  rid- 
ing away,  she  flew  after,  calling : 

"  Cluck !  cluck !  cluckity  cluck ! 
Take  me  for  good  luck !  " 

Then  she  flew  up  behind  the  rooster  and 
away  they  went  galloping — galloping — 
galloping. 

Pretty  soon  in  the  road  ahead,  wad- 
dling toward  them,  nodding  his  head,  came 
a  white  something  who  to  Dark-Pony  said : 

"  Quack !  quack !  quackity  quack ! 
Room  for  me  on  your  back  ?  " 

Guess  what  it  was!  Yes,  a  duck — and 
when  Dark-Pony  stopped,  it  flew  up  on' 
his  back  and  there  was  just  room  for  it 
then  to  sit  close  up  to  Mrs.  Hen,  and  away 
they  went  galloping — galloping — gallop- 
ing. 

As  they  were  riding  through  the  wood 
out  jumped  a  little  gray  squirrel  from 
behind  a  tree,  and  called  to  them  merrily: 

"  Please  look  and  see 
If  there's  room  for  me." 

Now  Dark-Pony  couldn't  see,  but  Noddy 
saw  where  there  was  room  for  one  more, 
and  that  was  in  his  pocket,  as  "  snug  as  a 
but?  in  a  rug."  He  tucked  in  the  squirrel 


after  giving  him  a  hug,  and  away  they 
went  galloping — galloping — galloping. 

A  little  further  on  as  they  were  looking 
down,  they  saw  a  little  quail  all  dressed 
in  brown,  who  ran  toward  them  whis- 
tling : 

"  Bob- White !    Bob- White  \ 
May  I  go  to-night?" 

Dark-Pony  was  very  kind  and  good  and 
liked  to  take  as  many  as  he  could,  but 
already  there  were  eight  passengers,  and 
where  to  put  the  ninth  was  a  puzzle. 
Finally  Mr.  Rooster  solved  it  by  kindly 
offering  his  broad  back  as  a  seat  for  the 
little  quail,  who  very  gladly  accepted  it — 
and  away  they  went  galloping — galloping 
—galloping. 

Pretty  soon  from  the  top  of  a  tree  flew 
a  big  bird  as  black  as  could  be.  Straight 
towards  them  as  they  rode  along  he 
swiftly  flew,  singing  this  song : 

"  Caw !  caw !  caw !  caw ! 
Is  there  room  for  one  more  ?  " 

Now  certainly  it  did  not  seem  so,  but 
Niddy  feeling  sorry  for  the  crow,  who 
longed  so  very  much  to  go,  kindly  to  it 
said,  "  You  may  sit  here  on  my  head." 

But  Dark-Pony  said :  "  Oh,  no !  on  my 
head  you  may  go,  right  between  my  ears, 
you  know." 

Sure  enough !  There  was  just  room  for 
the  black  crow,  and  away  they  did  go— 
galloping — galloping — galloping. 

What  a  happy  company  were  they; 
each  one  of  the  ten  in  his  own  way,  hum- 
ming a  song  as  they  galloped  along. 

Soon  the  song  grew  soft  and  low ;  slowly 
now  did  Dark- Pony  go. 

Finally  every  eye  was  closing  and  by 
the  time  they  all  were  dozing,  Dark-Pony 
with  head  bowed  down,  passed  thro'  the 
gates  of  Sleepytown. 


THE   FOURTH 
OF  JULY 


wake  up,  girls,  come 
! 


wake  up,  boys 
The  dawn  is  very  near ; 
The    day    we    celebrate    with 

noise, 

The  jolly  Fourth  is  here. 
Come,    get  your   crackers   for 
the  fun, 


Both  big  and  little  size; 
We'll    wake    up    echoes    when 


the  sun 
Begins  to  ope  his  eyes. 


and  bang  till  shadows 


Then,  when  the  night  comes 

on, 
The  most  exciting  time  of  all 

Is  fireworks  on  the  lawn. 
Pa   sets  the   rockets  'gainst  a 

post, 
They   fizz   and   screech   and 

fly 

Away  up  out  of  sight  a'most, 
Then  crash  against  the  sky ! 
AUNT  FANNY. 


SUSAN'S  MANNERS 

By  ELIZABETH  C.   WEBB 


npHERE  was  once  a  little  girl,  and  her 
•*•  name  was  Susan.  She  was  good  on 
Tuesdays  and  Fridays,  and  bad  all  the 
rest  of  the  week.  And  her  mother  often 
used  to  say :  "  Oh  Susan,  Susan,  why 
can't  you  always  have  on  your  Tutsday 
and  Friday  manners  ?  " 

Susan  said,  "  I  can't  wear  my  best  man- 
ners every  day,  or  I'll  wear  them  all  in 
holes." 

So  her  mother  sighed,  and  said,  "  Yes, 
I  suppose  you  are  right,  but  I  wish  I  knew 
a  place  where  I  could  buy  manners  that 
were  made  out  of  sail-cloth,  or  awning  ma- 
terial, or  something  that  would  wear  well." 

When  Susan  wasn't  wearing  her  Tues- 
day and  Friday  manners,  she  kept  them  in 


BRIDGET    BURNT    THEM    UP 


TH1RB   WAS   SUSAN.    JI7GGL1NG 


a  paper  box  in  her  top  bureau  drawer.  But 
one  day  she  forgot  to  put  the  box  away, 
and  left  it  on  the  floor.  Bridget  thought 
it  was  meant  to  be  thrown  away  so  she 
carried  it  off  to  the  kitchen  with  the  rest 
of  the  rubbish,  and  burned  it  up  in  the 
fire  next  morning. 

That  day  was  Friday,  and  Susan's 
mother  had  been  looking  forward  to  it 
since  Tuesday.  But  when  she  came  down 
to  the  breakfast  table  there  was  Susan 
trying  to  do  juggling  tricks  with  the  cups 
and  saucers.  Susan's  mother  sank  into  a 
chair. 

"'  Susnn  !  "  she  cried.  '  i  thought  it  was 
Friday!"" 

"  It  is  Friday,"  said  Susan,  still  pla>i»i^ 
with  the  breakfast  dishes. 


TH*    MEW    BOX    WAS    PADLOCKED    ON 


_  where,"  said  Susan's  mother, 
"  are  your  manners  ?  " 

"  Bridget  burnt  them  up,"  said  Susan. 
"  I'm  so  glad.  Now  I  don't  have  to  behave 
any  more,"  and  she  threw  a  breakfast  plate 
at  the  chandelier. 

As  soon  as  Susan's  mother  had  finished 
breakfast  she  put  on  her  bonnet  and  tied 
the  <«Tings  firmly  under  her  chin,  put  her 


umbrella  under  her  arm  and  went  out 

"  I    can    stand    it,"    she    said,    "  when 

Susan  is  good  two  days  in  the  week,  but 

if  she's  never  going  to  be  good — "  and 

Susan's  mother  shook  her  head  and  walked 

faster.    At  last  she  came  to  a  little  brown 

house,  and  she  rapped  at  the  door  with  the 

handle  of  her  umbrella. 

"Come  in,"  said  a  voice,  and  Susan's 


toother  went  in.  The  room  was  bright  and 
cheery,  and  before  the  fire  sat  a  little  old 
woman  in  a  white  cap  with  pink  bows  on 
it.  She  was  Susan's  fairy  godmother  and 
it  was  she  who  had  given  Susan  her  man- 
ners. 

Susan's  mother  sank  into  a  chair  and 
sighed.  "  Susan's  manners  got  burned  up 
this  morning,"  she  said. 

"  How  careless !  "  said  the  little  old  lady. 

Susan's  mother  shook  her  head.  "I 
don't  know  what  I'm  ever  going  to  do," 
she  sighed. 

There,  there,"  said  the  little  old  lady, 
jumping  up  and  running  to  a  cupboard. 
"  Don't  you  fret.  I'll  give  her  some  man- 
ners finer  and  better  than  she  ever  had 
before." 

"O,  please  don't  I"  cried  Susan's  mother 


"That  was  just  the  trouble.  The  mati« 
tiers  she  had  were  so  fine  that  she  couldn't 
wear  them  every  day.  But  if  you  have 
some  manners  that  are  both  good  anf* 
strong  I  should  be  extremely  grateful." 

"  I've  just  the  thing  for  you,"  cried  the 
little  old  lady,  and  she  came  out  with  a 
box  of  manners  in  one  hand  and  a  small 
chain  and  padlock,  like  a  bracelet,  rn  the 
other. 

"  There  now,"  she  said,  "  you  put  these 
manners  on  Susan,  lock  them  on  with  the 
padlock,  and  keep  the  key." 

So  Susan's  mother  did,  and  from  that 
time  on  Susan  was  the  best  behaved  little 
girl  in  town.  She  was  so  polite  that  she 
always  courtesied  whenever  she  spoke  to 
anybody,  till  at  last  it  got  on  her  mother's 
nerves  so  that  she  had  to  unlock  the  pad- 
lock and  let  her  out  once  in  a  while. 


WHEN  THE  CIRCUS  COMES 


pOSTERS  cover  every  space. 
•*•      In  the  very  air 
Is  a  glad  anticipation, 
Throwing  off  of  care. 

Children  saving  pennies  up, 

Parents  yielding  sway, 
Everybody  looking  for 

The  great 

big 


day. 


Youngsters  playing  hooky 
When  the  day  comes  round, 

keeping  underneath  the  tent, 
Flat  upon  the  ground. 


What  a  round-eyed  wonder, 

As  within  we  go. 
Ohs  and  Ahs  exclaiming, 
At  the  glittering  show. 

Band  is  playing  gaily, 
All  the  latest  airs, 

Horses  prancing,  jumping,  dancing, 
Singly  and  in  pairs. 

All  is  wild  excitement, 
Why,  the  very  town, 
Once  a  year  is  turned  completely 
Down 

side 

up. 

NELLIE  C.  T.  HERBERT. 


is    the    cock   that 
crowed  in  the  morn? 
Where  is  the  priest  all  shaven 

and  shorn? 
Where  is  the  man  all  tattered 

and  torn? 

Where  is  the  maiden  all  for- 
lorn? 
Where    is    the    cow    with    a 

crumpled  horn? 
Where  is  the  dog  that  worried 

the  cat? 
Where  is  the  cat  that  caught 

the  rat? 
Where  is  the  rat  that  ate  the 

malt? 

Where  is  the  malt 
That  lay  in  the  house 
That  Jack  built? 


IS   THE   OLD    FAMILIAR    HOO8E   THAT  JACK   BUILT.       ALL   Ttt   PEOPLE  IN  T«E 
-X  A"   HIDING.       FIND   THEM 


A    HAPPY  little  southern  wind 
"^      Went  wandering  away; 
It  was  the  dearest  little  wind 
That  ever  went  astray. 


It  touched  the  city's  outer  edge, 
Then  swiftly  turned  aside, 

For  it  had  heard  that  little  winds, 
Caught  by  the  hot  streets,  died. 


It  went  along  a  country  lane, 
And  through  the  meadows  fair; 

It  lifted  up  a  horse's  mane, 
And  stirred  a  baby's  hair. 


It  lingered  in  a  quiet  place 
Where  tall,  fair  lilies  grow; 

When  moon  drew  near,  it  hid  itself 
Where  pines  stand  in  a  row. 


It  slept  until  the  shadows  turned, 
Then,  dancing,  went  its  way; 

No  other  little  wind  that  blew 
Had  such  a  pleasant  day. 


A  NOVEL  BIRTHDAY  PRESENT 

By  MARION  WATHEN 
T"\OROTHY    and   Arthur  wanted   to 


give  their  little  sister  May  a  birth- 
day present.  It  was  such  an  interesting 
one  when  completed  that  I  must  tell  you 
about  it,  so  that  you  can  make  one  like  it 
should  you  care  to  do  so. 

It  was  a  picture  book,  a  very  original 
picture  book,  made  by  themselves.  They 
purchased  a  pretty  blankbook,  with  a 
plain  red  cover,  and  on  the  cover  in  pretty 
gilt  letters  (cut  from  gilt  paper  and 
mounted  with  paste)  was  the  little  girl's 
name — "  May." 

In  the  corner  of  each  page  was  pasted  a 
large  letter,  beginning  with  A,  cut  from 
bright  red  paper.  These  letters  were  ar- 
ranged alphabetically  through  the  book. 
Each  page  contained  a  pretty  picture  of 
something  beginning  with  the  letter  on 
the  corner  of  that  page,  and  underneath, 
or  about  the  picture,  was  written  a  line  or 
a  rhyme  referring  to  that  particular  pic- 
ture. All  the  pictures  and  rhymes  had,  of 
course,  some  reference  to  May,  who  was  to 
receive  the  book,  and  sometimes  the  pic- 
tures and  rhymes  were  rather  amusing. 


The  rhymes  were  all  composed  by 
Dorothy  and  Arthur,  children  of  ten  and 
twelve  years.  The  first  page  contained  a 
very  comical  picture  of  a  boy,  supposed  to 
be  Arthur  himself,  and  had  this  line  ac- 
companying it:  "A  is  for  Arthur,  the 
brother  of  May."  The  second  page  had 
a  picture  of  a  woman  baking  bread,  and 
beneath  it :  "  B  for  the  bread  May  eats 
every  day."  The  C-page  had  a  picture  of 
a  beautiful  college,  and  "  C  for  the  college 
where  May  wishes  to  go."  For  D  there 
was  a  little  girl  in  the  act  of  eating  a  large 
doughnut,  and  the  words :  "  D  is  for 
doughnuts ;  she  loved  them,  you  know." 
The  next  page  had  a  large  elephant  with 
"  E  is  for  elephant,  at  the  circus 
she  saw,"  beneath  it.  "  F  is  for  Fred,  her 
new  brother-in-law,"  with  a  picture  of  a 
very  handsome  young  man,  adorned  the 
next  page.  For  the  G-page  it  was  "  G  is 
for  golf,  she  drove  past  the  links ; "  and  for 
the  following  page,  "  H  for  May's  house, 
so  handsome,  she  thinks."  And  so  on. 

Needless  to  say  that  May  was  delighted 
with  this  gift,  and  had  lots  of  fun  over  it 


TO  WHIT,  TO   WHOO 

/^OOD  Mr.  Owl,  pray  tell  me  why 
^    You  always  say, "  To  whit,  to  whoo." 
If  you're  so  very  very  wise, 
Why  can't  you  tell  us  something  new  ? 

My  little  girl,  I  will  indeed 

Be  glad  to  tell  you  something  new, 
When  you  can  tell  me  what  I  mean 

By  my  remark,  "To  whit,  to  whoo." 
HARRIET  NUTTY. 


THE  LITTLE  MERMAID  AND  THE  STAR 

By  ELIZABETH  WEBB 


HERE  was  once  a  little  mermaid 
who  sat  by  the  salt  seaside,  and 
sang  as  she  dabbled  her  fingers 
in  the  water.  She  would  have 
dabbled  her  toes  too  if  she  had  had 
any  toes  to  dabble.  But  she  had  just  a 
tail,  a  shiny,  scaly,  twisty  green  tail,  and 
as  she  did  not  have  any  toes,  she  didn't 
have  any  stockings  to  put  on  or  any  shoes 
to  button.  She  didn't  have  to  go  to  school 
either,  or  to  study  lessons,  or  to  do  any- 
thing at  all  except  comb  her  long  hair; 
and  as  a  mermaid's  hair  never  gets 
snangles  in  it,  that  was  easy. 

You  would  have  thought  that  with 
such  a  pleasant  life  she  would  have  been 
a  very  good,  amiable  little  mermaid;  but 
she  was  not.  She  was  just  as  naughty  and 
mischievous  as  she  could  be.  She  teased 


the  other  mermaids  and  snapped  seaweed 
at  the  gentle  jellyfish  to  frighten  them, 
and  put  pepper  in  the  crab's  tea;  till  all 
the  sea  creatures  would  run  or  swim  or 
scuttle  away  as  fast  as  they  could  when- 
ever they  saw  her  coming.  At  last  one 
day  the  little  mermaid  was  left  all  alone 
by  herself  on  the  rough,  round,  rugged 
rocks  with  nothing  to  do  and  nobody  at  all 
to  play  with. 

She  didn't  like  it  a  bit.  But  she  pre- 
tended she  was  having  a  lovely  time  and 
sang  little  songs  to  herself,  just  to  show 
any  of  the  sea  creatures  that  might  happen 
to  be  swimming  near  that  she  didn't  care ; 
and  she  threw  shells  and  white  pebbles 
into  a  clear  pool  between  the  rocks,  and 
watched  them  sink  slowly  down  till  they 
touched  the  silver  sand  ao^  °**H  it  spurting 


upward 
water. 


in    a   cloud    through    the    still 


But  the  sea  creatures  bad  all  gone  off 
to  a  picnic,  so  they  didn't  put  their  heads 
up,  and  the  little  mermaid  got  desperately 
tired  of  trying  to  pretend  she  was  happy 
when  she  wasn't.  She  sang  all  the  morn- 
ing, and  all  the  afternoon  till  the  evening 
came  and  the  earth  grev>  quiet,  an(*  the 
stars  came  out  one  by  one.  < 

Now  the  little  mermaid  knew  that  it 
was  getting  very  late,  and  that  she  ought 
to  have  been  in  bed  long  ago,  and  that  her 
nurse  was  probably  swimming  all  around 
looking  for  her,  and  that  her  mother  was 
worrying,  and  that  therefore  she  ought 
to  go  home  right  straight  away.  But  she 
didn't.  She  was  a  very  naughty,  mis- 
chievous, mermaid.  She  stayed  just  where 
she  was  and  went  on  singing.  She  knevr 
she  was  naughty  and  she  rather  liked  it. 

She  had  never  been  out  so  late  before, 
so  she  had  never  seen  the  stars  in  all  her 
life;  and  when  they  began  to  twinkle  here 
and  there  in  the  sky  she  was  charmed 
with  them  and  she  clapped  her  hands  with 
delight  and  called  up  to  the  stars: 

"  Come  down,  come  down,  and  play 
with  me !  "  But  the  stars  only  twinkled 
knowingly  and  didn't  come  an  inch  nearer. 
Then  the  little  mermaid  saw  one  bright 
star  that  seemed  more  beautiful  to  her 
than  all  the  rest,  and  she  called  up  to  it: 
"  Come  down,  come  down,  you  bright 
beautiful  star!  Come  down,  come  down, 
and  play  with  me !  " 

But  the  star  only  called  back  through 
the  still  air:  "  Can't,  I'm  busy." 

That  made  the  little  mermaid  cross. 
"  Silly  thing,"  she  pouted.  "  What  does 
he  mean  by  saying  he  is  busy  ?  "  And  shi 
called  up  again. 

"  Oh,  bother,  you're  not  doing  anything 
up  there  except  just  twinkling.  Come 
down  and  play  with  me;  you  don'*  have 
to  twinkle." 


v  but  I  Jo  have  b)  twinkle !  "  cried  the 
,ctar.  "  I  ought  to  twinkle." 

"  Provoking  thing !  "  said  the  little  mer- 
maid to  herself.  She  wanted  that  star 
because  it  was  bright  and  pretty  and  be- 
cause she  couldn't  have  it — mostly  because 
she  couldn't  have  it. 

But  aloud  she  said :  "  There  are  such 
a  lot  of  stars  that  no  one  would  miss  you." 

Then  the  star  glowed  with  the  thought 
of  his  own  goodness.  "  No,"  said  he,  "  I 
ought  to  stay  up  here  and  help  make  the 
sky  look  pretty  for  the  moon,  and  if  I 
ought  to  stay,  I  ought  to  stay.  Isn't  there 
anything  you  ought  to  do?"  he  asked  se- 
verely. 

"  Well,"  said  the  little  mermaid  slowly, 
"  I  ought  to  go  home,  I  suppose." 

"  Then,"  said  the  star,  "  go !  " 

"  But  I  don't  want  to,"  cried  the  little 
mermaid, "  I'd  much  rather  stay  out  here." 

"  Nonsense !  "  said  the  star.  "  If  you 
ought  to  go  you  ought  to  go." 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,"  said  the  little 
mermaid  sweetly.  "  Good-night !  "  And 
she  slid  off  the  rocks  and  swam  away 
under  the  sea. 

"What  a  good,  reasonable,  little  mer- 
maid ! "  said  the  star.  He  didn't  know 
her,  for  as  soon  as  he  wasn't  looking  that 
mermaid  swam  right  back  to  the  rocks 
and  spread  a  net  all  made  of  seaweed 
over  the  pool  where  the  star's  reflection 
lay.  "Now,"  she  laughed  to  herself, 
"that  star  can't  get  away.  I  will  have 
it  to  play  with  in  the  morning."  And  she 
swam  back  to  her  home  under  the  sea, 
where  her  nurse  gave  her  a  good  scold- 
ing and  put  her  to  bed. 

But  in  the  morning  she  found  the  pool 
quite  empty.  The  star  had  taken  his  re- 
flection with  him  when  the  day  came  and 
he  had  to  go  away.  It  was  just  as  if 
you  tried  to  catch  anyone  bv  holding  to 


their  reflection  in  the  mirror.     Then  the 
little  mermaid  sat  down  by  the  side  of  the 


pool  and  wept.  Then  she  thought  for  a 
long  time;  and  that  evening  she  slipped 
away  'rom  her  nurse  and  went  again  to 
the  rough,  round,  rugged  rocks  to  wait 
for  the  star. 

"  Ah,  there  you  are,  you  pretty  star !  " 
she  called  as  soon  as  she  saw  him.  "  Do 
look  into  the  pool  and  see  how  very  beau- 
tiful you  are  this  evening." 

And  that  star  was  so  pleased  with  what 
she  said  that  he  forgot  all  about  his  duty 
to  the  moon,  and  he  leaned  so  far  over 
to  see  his  reflection  that  he  lost  his  balance 
and  fell  right  out  of  the  sky.  Down,  down, 
dawn  he  shot  through  the  black  night, 


leaving  a  bright  train  of  sparks  behinu 
him;  faster  and  faster,  till  he  fell  with  a 
splash  and  a  sizzle  into  the  pool. 

As  soon  as  he  touched  the  water  his 
light  went  out,  for  he  was  bright  only  be- 
cause he  did  his  duty;  and  when  the  little 
mermaid  reached  her  arm  down  to  pick 
him  up,  all  she  found  was  a  dull  grey 
starfish. 

He  was  not  a  bit  interesting.  All  his 
pretty  sparkle  was  gone.  The  little  mer- 
maid was  very  much  disappointed  in  him, 
so  she  left  him  lying  on  the  rocks  and  slid 
off  into  the  water,  to  see  if  she  could  find 
another  jellyfish  to  tease. 


MARJORIE  MAY'S  LESSON 

f\R,  Marjorie,  Marjorie,  Marjorie  May! 

^^  You  never  must  sulk  in  work  or  in  play, 
'Cause  'tisn't  the  way  a  dollie  should  grow, 
It'll  keep  you  from  knowing  the  things  you  should  know, 
And  drive  all  the  happy  right  out  of  your  heart, 
And  keep  you  from  everything  lovely,  apart 

Come  Marjorie,  Marjorie,  Marjorie  May, 
I  know  you  can  see  that  this  beautiful  day 
Is  here  just  on  purpose  to  teach  you  to  know 
That  when  the  sun  shines  it  makes  everything  grow 
In  just  the  right  way.     There's  a  sun  in  your  heart 
If  you'll  let  its  bright  shine  reach  into  each  part 
Of  your  mind,  and  beam  out  of  your  pretty  blue  eyes, 
Twill  make  everything  bright  from  the  earth  to  the  skies ! 

HELEN  VAN  ANDERSON, 


POOR  DOLLTf 

r\  NCE  a  little  dolly, 
^   Left  up  in  a  tree, 
Cried  out  after  Polly: 
"  Do  come  back  for  me!  " 

Oh,  how  scared  was  dolly 

There  the  long  night  through, 

All  forgot  by  Polly, 
In  the  dark  and  dew. 

GRACE  MAY  NORTH. 


r\EAR,  dear, 

misery  me, 

The  sun  is  down 

and  it's  time  for 

tea, 
The  cow's  come  home 

and  the  chickens 

are  fed, 
Let's  say  good-night, 

and  go  to  bed. 


A  QUESTION 

Y  up  in  the  Polar-Bear  Country, 
Where  the  ground  is  all  covered  with  white. 
Where  the  people  use  reindeer  for  horses, 

And  a  day  is  as  long  as  a  night, 
And  each  day  is  as  long  as  a  half-year, 

D'  you  s'pose  that  a  small  boy  would  say, 
"  Pack  everything,  please,  mother  darling, 
I'm  going  to  visit  all  day  "  ? 

ALICE  VAN  LEER  CARRICK. 


CONTENTMENT 

TN  summer  when  'tis  very  warm, 
-*-  And  all  the  folks  complaining  go, 
It's  then  I  like  the  wintertime,  — 
Brave  winter  with  its  ice  and  snow. 

And  when  the  blustering  blizzards  rave, 
And  it  is  cold  as  cold  can  be, 

The  very  hottest  summer  day 
Is  not  one  whit  too  warm  for  me. 

In  spring  I  like  the  bracing  fall; 

In  autumn  love  the  gentle  spring; 
So  you  may  see,  the  whole  year  'round 

I'm  satisfied  with  everything. 


A  NEW  AMBITION 

WHEN  I'm  grown  up,  I  think  111  be 
A  landlord ;   for  then— don't  you 

see?— 

I'll  own  a  lot  of  houses  fine, 
And  on  each  one  I'll  put  this  sign : 
TO    LET,    STEAM    HEAT,    RENTS 

ARE  NOT  HIGH. 
FOLKS    WITHOUT   CHILDREN 

DONT  APPLY! 
And  I  shall  ask  of  those  who  call, 
"  What,  seven  children!    Is  that  all? 
I  hope  they  make  a  lot  of  noise; 
I  want  some  lively  girls  and  boys." 


THE  TOWN  MOUSE  AND  THE  COUNTRY 

MOUSE 

By  ALICE  VAN  LEER  CARRICK 


HE  Country  Mouse — she  was 
really  a  little  girl,  and  her  name 
was  Ellen — sat  on  the  door-sill, 
and  looked  out  at  the  green 
fields  that  stretched  to  the  foot  of  the  tall, 
misty  hills  beyond.  If  she  had  spoken  her 
thoughts  aloud,  she  would  have  said, 
"Here  I  am,  shut  in,  with  nothing  to 
see  hut  cows  and  chickens,  and  nothing 
to  do  but  pick  berries  or  go  fishing.  It 
is  all  stupid,  and  I  wish  that  I  lived  in  the 
city."  She  did  not  notice  how  beautiful 
the  buttercups  were,  growing  so  thick  that 
they  made  the  meadows  yellow;  she  had 
seen  them  all  her  life ;  and  as  for  berries — 
why,  anyone  could  pick  berries !  That  was 
nothing. 


Now,  was  it  not  strange  that  just  at  the 
same  time,  the  Town  Mouse,  Louise,  was 
looking  at  a  long  line  of  brick  houses,  with 
never  a  tree  in  sight.  There  was  only  a 
starved  grass-plot  in  front  of  the  dusty 
block.  And  she  thought,  "  How  pleasant  it 
must  be  way  up  in  the  country  where  there 
are  fields  and  rivers  and  mountains.  I 
could  take  off  my  shoes  and  stockings,  and 
wade  in  the  brook  just  as  my  father  said 
he  used  to  do,  and  there  would  be  flowers 
to  pick,  and  no  policemen  to  tell  you  to  get 
off  the  grass."  Out  in  the  street  a  hurdy- 
gurdy  was  playing  bright  tunes,  and  chil- 
dren were  dancing.  Further  off,  a  hokey- 
pokey  man  rang  his  bell,  and  other  little 
girls  ran  to  buy  the  cool,  sweet  stuff. 


But  the  Town  Mouse  sat  still  and  cross 
Yesterday  she  had  been  taken  for  a  ride  on 
the  swanboats  in  the  Public  Garden,  but 
any  one  could  do  that,  she  said  to  herself. 

You  see,  each  Mouse  wanted  what  the 
Other  had;  and  what  was  very  strange, 
each  got  a  chance  to  try  the  one  thing  she 
most  wished  for.  To  the  farm-house  came 
a  letter,  asking  the  Country  Mouse  to  come 
to  the  city  for  a  week  with  her  aunt ;  and 
the  Town  Mouse's  grandmother  wrote  for 
the  little  girl  to  come  and  pay  a  visit  to  the 
country  place  where  her  father  was  born. 
Sometimes  pleasant  things  that  one  does 
not  expect  really  do  happen. 

Louise  and  Ellen  both  danced  with  joy, 
when  the  letters  came — one  on  the  brick 
sidewalk,  the  other  in  the  green  fields ;  both 
thinking  of  the  pleasures  that  were  in 
store  for  them. 

Do  you  want  to  hear  what  happened, 
and  how  they  really  liked  the  things  they 
had  most  wanted? 

The  Country  Mouse  looked  out  of  her 
one  window,  and  thought  that  all  the 
houses  seemed  very  close  together.  And 
why  was  there  no  grass,  and  what  were 
all  those  people  doing  in  the  street,  and 
wouldn't  they  stop  walking  soon,  so  that 
she  could  go  to  sleep?  And  that  night, 
after  she  had  gone  to  bed,  the  cars  kept 
clanging  by  the  house  so  steadily,  and  with 
such  a  noise,  that  she  jumped  up  thinking 
something  must  be  on  fire.  The  hand- 
organs  were  nice,  and  sometimes  such  cun- 
ning monkeys  came  with  them ;  but  there 


were  no  animals  that  lived  near  her  except 
some  cats  that  ran  quickly  along  the  alley 
fence,  so  quickly  that  no  one  could  make 
friends  with  them.  Would  you  believe  it, 
the  Country  Mouse  very  soon  began  to 
think  that  green,  daisy-dotted  fields,  with 
the  high  hills  skirting  them,  were  not  so 
bad  after  all. 

Now,  all  this  time  the  other  Mouse,  the 
Town  Mouse,  you  know,  had  been  playing 
in  the  meadows.  Once  a  cow  chased  her, 
and  that  made  her  want  to  go  back  to  the 
city.  She  was  lonely,  too,  she  who  had 
always  had  so  many  little  playmates,  for 
the  next  farm  was  four  miles  away,  and  it 
was  hard  for  children  to  see  each  other 
in  haying  time.  At  night,  when  the  whip- 
poor-will  began  to  sing,  and  the  frogs 
croaked  in  the  pond,  the  Town  Mouse 
crept  to  her  window  and  looked  out.  It 
was  all  so  still  that  the  tiny  noises  which 
would  have  been  lost  in  the  city  seemed 
very  big  indeed.  And  down  those  hills,  all 
white  with  moonlight,  wild  animals  might 
walk,  and  there  would  be  no  policeman 
to  stop  them ! 

So  both  little  girls  were  happy  when 
the  trains  puffed  their  ways  home  with 
them.  They  were  satisfied ;  Ellen  with  the 
wide,  quiet  country,  Louise  with  the  big, 
noisy  city.  Each  place  has  its  own  pleasures, 
you  know,  and  that  is  why  this  story  is  as 
true  as  the  old  fable,  and  much  better,  for 
in  that,  you  remember,  it  was  only  the 
Country  Mouse  who  was  content  to  go 
home. 


N  Christmas  Eve,  when  the  lights  are  dim, 

But  eager  eyes  with  excitement  shine, 
The  Sandman  steals  from  the  chimney-place, 
And  glancing  round,  makes  a  backward  sign. 

He  dips  his  hand  in  his  pouch  of  sand, 
The  silver  grains  flinging  far  and  wide; 

And  listens,  then,  for  the  drowsy  sighs 
That  come  when  eyes  under  lashes  hide. 


±ie  softly  tiptoes  from  crib  to  crib, 

And  sifts  the  sand  in  a  'my  heap; 
Then  up  the  chimney  he  r.?,ily  calls, 

"  Come,  Santa  Claus,  *hey  are  sound  asleep !  " 

EUNICE  WARD. 


THE    REAL    PRINCE 

By  BERTHA  E.  BUSH 


HERE  was  great  joy  in  the 
kingdom  of  No  Man's  Land, 
for  the  longed-for  heir  had  been 
born.  The  bells  ranj  all  night. 
Cannon  boomed,  and  the  who!  5  country 
was  wild  with  happiness.  Tht  re  was  a 
particular  reason  for  this  joy.  King  Sen- 
sible the  First  had  been  hoping  f  >r  an  heir 
for  twelve  years ;  and  the  whole  land  had 
been  troubled  for  fear  the  kingdom  would 
go  to  his  brother,  who  was  a  very  bad  man. 

Some  of  the  wise  people  of  the  land  did 
not  share  in  the  joy,  but  shook  their  heads 
gloomily. 

"  He  will  grow  up  a  spoiled  boy,"  they 
said.  "  He  is  the  only  prince  and,  of 
course,  he  will  always  have  his  own  way  in 
everything,  and  everyone  will  bow  down 
to  him  and  flatter  him." 

King  Sensible  the  First  heard  of  this 
dismal  prophecy,  and  as  he  was  a  very  wise 
king,  he  soon  thought  of  a  remedy.  He 
sent  all  over  his  kingdom  to  find  the  boy 
babies  that  had  been  born  the  same  day  as 
the  little  prince.  There  were  five  of  them 
in  all.  He  had  them  all  brought  to  the 
royal  nursery  and  dressed  exactly  as  the 
MttJe  oHnce  was. 


"  You  must  treat  all  the  five  babies  ex- 
actly alike,"  he  said  to  the  attendants. 
"  You  mast  never  let  them  or  anyone  else 
know  which  is  the  real  prince.  Then  my 
son  cannot  be  spoiled  by  his  royalty." 

After  that  you  may  be  sure  the  nursery 
of  the  palace  was  a  lively  place.  Five 
baby  carriages  stood  in  a  row  at  its  door. 
Five  pretty  white  and  gold  beds  stood  in 
it,  four  at  the  corners  and  one  in  the  mid- 
dle. Five  baby  jumpers  hung  from  the 
ceiling,  and  five  high  chairs  were  ar- 
ranged along  the  wall.  Five  white-capped 
nurses  fed  and  bathed  and  cared  for  the 
five  babies ;  and  five  bottles  stood  in  a  pan 
of  hot  water  on  the  stove  until  they  were 
heated  to  exactly  the  right  temperature. 

But  if  the  nursery  was  lively  when  the 
babies  wore  long  clothes  and  slept  almost 
all  the  time,  it  was  still  more  lively  when 
they  began  to  get  around.  What  plays 
they  had,  the  five  together !  What  fights 
they  had,  too,  sometimes,  when  they  pulled 
each  other's  hair  and  slapped  and  even 
kicked  and  punched  each  other.  And  then 
the  whole  five  were  spanked  and  put  to 
bed. 

You  see  King  Sensible  the  Fa**  mean* 


WHAT    FLAYS   THEY    HAD,   THE    FIVE    TOGETHER  I 


that  his  son  and  heir  should  be  whole- 
somely brought  up.  His  head  should  not 
be  turned  with  flattery  and  adulation  be- 
cause he  was  the  prince.  "  Better  that  no 
one  in  all  the  kingdom  knows  he  is  the 
prince !  "  he  said.  He  forbade  the  nurses 
to  show  by  look  or  word  which  of  their 
charges  was  the  royal  heir.  Indeed  he 
tried  to  make  them  forget  it,  and,  for  that 
reason,  often  changed  the  babies  in  their 
beds  and  changed  about  the  nurses  who 
cared  for  them,  till  not  one  was  sure  which 
was  the  royal  child. 

"  It  would  be  well  if  I  should  forget 
which  he  is,  too,"  the  king  said  heroically. 
You  see  he  was  such  a  good  father  that  he 
would  do  anything  for  the  good  of  his  boy. 
He  did  not  think  such  a  thing  could  be 
possible;  but  he  did  not  know  how  much 
alike  five  babies  of  the  same  age,  dressed 
and  cared  for  just  alike,  could  look.  Be- 
fore the  first  year  was  over  not  even  the 
father  knew  which  was  the  true  prince. 
The  mother  would  have  remembered,  I 
think,  but  she  died  shortly  after  the  little 
prince  was  born. 

Now,  of  course,  the  good  King  Sensi- 
ble did  not  mean  that  this  should  last  for- 
ever. The  true  prince  must  certainly  be 
known  when  the  time  came  for  him  to 
mount  the  throne.  So  he  secretly  took 
the  child  to  the  court  magician,  and  this 
wizard  put  upon  the  little  arm  a  strange 
mark  shaped  like  a  crown  which  should 
remain  invisible  for  seventeen  years  and 
then  appear.  So  the  good  king  felt  per- 
fectly happy  and  secure.  But  he  did  not 
know  that  his  wicked  brother  had  after- 
ward bribed  the  magician  to  put  the  same 
kind  of  a  mark  on  every  one  of  the  babies. 

When  good  King  Sensible  the  First 
died  no  one  knew  which  of  the  five  princes 
was  the  true  prince,  but  the  king  pro- 
claimed in  his  will  what  the  court  magician 


had  done,  and  the  people  were  content  u# 
wait  till  the  princes  should  be  seventeen. 
But  when  that  time  came,  behold  the  same 
kind  of  mark  appeared  on  every  one  of 
the  five  young  men ! 

The  dead  king's  brother  pretended  to 
be  very  angry  at  what  he  called  the  trick- 
ery of  the  magician.  He  stormed  and 
raged,  and  sent  messengers  everywhere 
demanding  that  that  trickster  should  ap- 
pear and  settle  the  matter.  But  he  took 
great  care  that  the  magician  should  be 
where  he  could  not  answer  the  messages. 
Then  he  made  proclamation  that,  since 
the  true  heir  could  not  be  known,  he  him- 
self would  reign  as  king  until  the  magician 
should  be  found  and  the  puzzle  explained. 

The  five  princes  were  justly  indignant, 
but  what  could  they  do?  They  did  not 
know  which  should  rightly  be  king,  and 
there  could  not  be  five  kings.  They  dis- 
cussed the  matter  for  three  days  and  three 
nights,  but  came  to  no  decision.  At  last 
the  slowest  and  gentlest  of  the  princes 
spoke. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  there  is  but  one 
thing  to  do,"  he  said.  "  We  must  prove  by 
our  actions  who  is  the  real  prince.  The 
real  king's  son  should  be  the  most  kingly." 

The  rest  turned  upon  him  in  scorn. 
"  You  may  be  sure  that  you  are  not  the 
real  prince,"  they  said. 

The  slowest  prince  sighed.  He  was 
used  to  their  ridicule,  but  it  always  hurt. 

"  I  suppose  not,"  he  said,  gently  still. 
"  You  may  count  me  out.  But  one  of  us 
five  is  the  king  and  it  is  only  right  that  he 
should  have  the  throne.  We  must  make 
some  plan  to  give  it  to  him.  Let  us  leave 
it  to  the  people  of  the  kingdom  and  give 
them  a  year  to  decide  which  is  the  most 
kingly." 

They  grumbled  and  mocked,  but  after 
all  they  did  as  he  said;  tfaey  were  quite 


Apt  to  do  this.  He  was  always  the  butt  of 
the  five,  for  he  was,  as  he  said,  the  slowest 
of  them  in  every  way,  and  never  asserted 
his  right  as  the  others  did ;  but  he  thought 
jvery  thing  over  carefully 
an/1  decided  what  was 
right  tr  do,  and  he  was  as 
determined  as  he  was  slow. 
>r'>body  counted  him  in  the 
contest  to  come.  He  was 
thought  stupid  and  awk- 
ward, and  he  himself  join- 
ed in  the  universal  opinion. 

"  It  is  of  no  use  for  me 
to  try  to  prove  myself 
king,"  he  said  with  a  sigh. 
"  I  will  put  in  this  year  of 
probation  in  studying  the 
things  that  will  best  help 
me  to  serve  my  country  in 
a  subordinate  place,  for 
surely  she  needs  the  service 
of  all  her  sons,  high-born 
and  low-born,  in  these 
troublous  days." 

They  were,  indeed,  trou- 
blous days.  The  dead 
king's  brother,  who  was 
regent  and  bound  to  get 
glory  for  himself,  had 
taken  the  whole  army  and 
gone  out  to  invade  a  neigh- 
boring kingdom.  Strong- 
holds were  weakened,  the 
people  were  oppressed,  and 
the  whole  land  was  full  of  fear  and  misery. 

The  other  four  boys  did  not  think  much 
of  this.  They  set  themselves  to  winning 
the  hearts  of  the  people,  each  one  hoping 
to  be  chosen  king  when  the  year  was  up. 

One  of  them  was  known  as  the  hand- 
somest prince.  He  had  a  thousand  suits 
of  clothes  made  for  him,  each  more  beau- 
tiful and  costly  than  the  last,  and  showed 


himself  daily  in  pageants  and  processions. 
All  the  people  shouted  in  acclamation 
when  he  appeared  and  many  said,  "  Surely 
he  is  so  beautiful,  he  will  be  king." 


HE    STUDIED    HIS    COUNTRY  S    HISTORY 

The  second  prince  was  known  as  the 
strongest  one.  He  arranged  athletic  con- 
tests and  astonished  everyone  with  his 
feats  of  strength.  The  third  prince  was 
called  the  brightest  one.  He  spent  his 
days  in  hunting  up  arguments,  and  proved 
by  logic  to  everyone  about  that  he  was  the 
king's  real  son.  The  fourth  prince  was 
known  as  the  most  charming  one.  and  he 


went  about  from  house  to  house  making 
friends  with  everyone  and  promising  great 
pits  u  »d  rewards  when  he  should  be  king; 
but  the  slowest  one  did  none  of  these 
things.  He  felt  as  the  others  said,  that  it 
was  useless  for  him  to  think  of  being 
king.  So  he  put  his  time  into  study.  He 
studied  his  country's  history.  He  studied 
his  country's  laws.  .  And  especially  he 
studied  about  her  defenses,  the  weakest 
places  and  the  strongest  places,  and  the 
condition  of  the  army,  and  the  best  plans 
for  its  campaigns.  He  pored  hours  over 
army  tactics,  and  spent  hours  more  in 
drilling  a  company  of  home  guards,  who 
needed  a  leader  and  were  glad  to  get  even 
the  slowest  of  the  princes. 

So  the  year  went  on ;  and  just  at  the  end 
of  it,  awful  news  came.  The  schemes  of 
the  bad  regent  had  failed.  Instead  of 
conquering  the  kingdom  he  had  invaded, 
he  had  been  conquered.  His  army  was 
cut  to  pieces,  and  he  was  killed.  The  ene- 
my was  now  advancing  into  the  kingdom, 
burning  and  pillaging.  Something  must 
be  done  at  once. 

But  what  could  be  done?  The  army 
was  shattered.  The  generals  were  all 
killed. 

"  We  will  have  to  buy  off  the  enemy," 
said  the  handsomest  prince,  and  set  about 
at  once  collecting  all  his  fine  suits  and  all 
the  treasures  of  the  palace  to  offer  as  a 
ransom. 

"  No,  we  must  fight  them  and  drive 
them  back,"  said  the  strongest  one. 

"  But  we  have  no  army,"  said  the  coun- 
cilors despairingly. 


"  Then  we  must  raise  a  new  army,*  said 
the  most  charming  one. 

"But  who  can  be  their  commander?" 
said  the  councilors.  "  None  of  us  know 
anything  about  army  tactics. 

"  We  must  study  them,"  said  the  bright- 
est prince;  and  straightway  he  sent  to  the 
library  for  a  thousand  volumes  on  the 
subject.  But  they  knew  well  that  the 
enemy  was  advancing  so  swiftly  that  the 
palace  might  be  burned  over  their  heads 
before  the  first  book  was  read.  Then  the 
slowest  prince  stepped  forward. 

"  I  think  I  can  lead  the  army,"  he  said. 
"  I  have  studied  army  tactics  and  plans  of 
campaigning  all  the  year." 

And  he  led  the  army  to  victory.  Under 
his  command  the  enemy  was  driven  back 
and  the  land  once  more  made  safe. 

"  This  prince  is  the  rightful  king,"  said 
all  the  people.  "  He  has  the  very  spirit 
of  the  old  king,  his  father;  and,  now  that 
we  regard  him  closely,  we  see  that  he 
looks  just  like  him.  He  is  our  king!" 
And  he  was  crowned  on  the  field  of  battle. 

Strangely  enough,  just  then  the  old  ma- 
gician appeared  again.  He  told  what  he 
had  done  and  explained  that  he  had  made 
the  marks  for  the  other  four  babies  just  a 
little  different  from  that  of  the  king's  son ; 
and  the  right  mark  he  found  on  the  slow- 
est prince's  arm.  But  by  this  time  no  one 
called  that  one  slow.  They  said,  "  How 
deliberate  and  sure  he  is !  What  admirable 
qualities  those  are!  It  is  indeed  just  as 
it  should  be;  and  we  should  have  known 
that  he  was  the  rightful  king  even  if  the 
magician  had  not  come." 


BOBBY'S  THANKSGIVING 


"T   CANNOT  see," 
1    Said  Bobby  Lee, 
"  Why  I  should  very  thankful  be. 
I  think  it  is  a  funny  way 
To  have  just  one  Thanksgiving  Day, 
For  many  things  might  chance,  you  see, 
To  spoil  your  fun,"  said  Bobby  Lee. 
"  But  if  we  had  a  week  or  two, 
I  would  enjoy  it  through  and  through." 

"  One  single  day ! 

It  does  not  pay, 

For  it  might  rain — 'tis  oft  the  way — 

And  all  our  plans  would  be  upset 

If  everything  were  soaking  wet. 


And  if  a  team  were  playing  ball, 

We  couldn't  see  the  game  at  all. 

But  if  we  had  a  week  or  two 

We  would  enjoy  it  through  and  through." 

"  It  seems  to  me," 
Said  Bobby  Lee, 
"Thanksgiving's  an  uncertainty. 
The  President  may  say  it's  so — 
But  that  don't  make  the  thing  a  '  go.' 
The  only  certain  thing  to  me 
Is  dinner  time,"  said  Bobby  Lee — 
"  But  turkey  for  a  week  or  two 
Would    make    me    tired    through    and 
through." 


NUTS  TO  CRACK 


TN  Autumn  there  are  nuts  to  crack, 
•*•  Of  every  size  and  kind, 
Hazelnuts  and  hickory, 
And  chestnuts  you  will  find. 
And  if  around  the  nursery  fire 
You  sit  and  crack  and  eat, 
And  joke  and  spin  a  merry  yarn, 
'Tis  happiness  complete. 

iBut  there  are  other  nuts  to  crack, 
Quite  different,  you'll  find, 
From  hazel  nuts  or  hickory, 
Or  any  other  kind. 


Geography,  Arithmetic, 
These  nuts  are  hard,  indeed, 
And  Spelling  is  another  nut, 
And  there's  to  write  and  read, 

And  History  and  Grammar,  all 

These  nuts  are  good  to  eat; 

Though  hard  to  crack,  you'll  find  in  eacH 

A  kernel  sound  and  sweet. 

Indeed,  a  bag  of  nuts  is  hid 

Behind  each  school-room  door; 

Be  sure  you've  cracked  them,  every  one, 

Before  you  ask  for  more. 


CAMEL 


THE   CLOTHES-PIN   DOLLIES 


BY  CAMILLA  J.   KNIGHT 

Two  stately  little  ladies  these,  as  ever  you  have 

known, 
With  petticoats  so  very  stiff  that  they  can  stand 

alone. 
Each  has  a  smiling,  rosy  face  upon  her  wooden 

head, 
A    dainty    cap    adorning   each,    with    frills,    and 

ribbon  red. 

Their  gowns,  all  made  of  scarlet  silk,  are  beau- 
tiful to  see; 
Aunt  Lou  dressed  them  for  Marjorie  when  she 

was  only  three. 
At  night,  the  ladies  are  undressed,  and  each  is 

then  arrayed 
In  night-gown  white,   with   cap  and  cape,  and 

on  the   pillow   laid. 
When  Marjorie  jumps  into  bed,  she  takes  them 

in  her  arms. 
And  hugs  them  tight  to  keep  them  safe  from 

all  the  dark's  alarms. 
On  birthdays,  and  at  Christmas  time,  all  kinds  of 

dolls  she  gets ; 
But  these,   her   little  clothes-pin  dolls,   are   still 

her  dearest  pets. 


SAT    THERE    AND    DISCUSSED    IMPORTANT    gUESTIONS 

LITTLE  MISS   GOOSEY 

By  KATHARINE  NEWriOLD  BIRDSALL 


hair. 


|OBODY  knew  her  by  any  other 
name.  She  was  a  little  girl 
with  great  inquisitive  blue  eyes 
and  a  shock  of  curling  brown 
She  wasn't  pretty;  she  wasn't 
clever ;  she  wasn't  anything  but  just  "  Lit- 
tle Miss  Goosey."  Her  name  was  Grace 
Ursula  Carter,  after  her  two  grandmoth- 
ers,— and  her  initials  G.  U.  C. — and 
there  you  have  it — Goosey!  Perhaps  it 
was  too  bad  for  her  mother  and  father 
not  to  think  of  those  initials.  But  they 
didn't  until  after  she  was  christened,  and 
then  it  was  too  late  to  change. 

Little  Miss  Goosey  lived  in  the  coun- 
try— not  the  great  lonesome  country 
where  there  are  miles  of  woods  and  fields 
without  any  houses,  but  in  a  large  coun- 
try town  which  we  may  call  Pinkieville 


so  that  you  will  never  guess  its  real  name. 
And  by  all  the  townspeople — for  the  Car- 
ters were  well  known — she  was  called 
Little  Miss  Goosey.  I  do  not  believe  any 
of  them  knew  her  real  name;  or  if  they 
did,  they  had  forgotten  it.  They  thought 
it  fitted  her  at  times,  for  she  had  such 
queer  thoughts !  I  doubt  if  they  were 
more  queer  than  other  people's  thoughts, 
only  other  people  have  a  way  of  keeping 
their  queer  thoughts  to  themselves;  Lit- 
tle Miss  Goosey  hadn't.  But  this  isn't 
telling  you  about  the  Sheep  Hill  Tragedy 
at  all. 

Little  Miss  Goosey's  grandmother  and 
grandfather  lived  still  further  out  in  the 
country  on  a  large  farm,  every  inch  of 
which  Little  Miss  Goosey  loved.  The 
biggest  thing  on  the  farm  was  Sheep 


Hill,  even  bigger  than  Mine  Hill  which 
jvas  itself  wondrous  to  behold.  The  lit- 
fe  girl  never  knew  just  which  spot  was 
the  dearest,  but  one  of  her  favorites  was 
the  very  pinnacle  of  Sheep  Hill.  Here 
she  was  contented  to  sit,  quietly  watching 
the  clouds  forming  into  queer  shaped 
animals  in  their  sky-blue  bed;  trying  to 
see  just  a  bit  farther  over  Snake  Hill  in 
the  distance,  to  catch  the  dim  outline  of 
the  Catskill  Mountains.  Real  true  moun- 
tains they  were,  such  as  she  had  never 
seen  near  by.  Of  course  Storm  King 
was  a  huge  mountain;  and  Schunemunk 
a  terrible  place  where  rattlesnakes  and 
huckleberries  grew;  and  Anthony's  Nose 
across  the  river  she  had  once  plainly  seen 
from  the  boat.  But  these  must  all  be  lit- 
tle knolls  compared  to  the  Catskills,  for 
the  great  Catskills  were  in  her  geography 
marked  something  like  the  minister's 
mustache. 

It  was  on  the  very  top  of  Sheep  Hill 
one  Saturday  that  Bob  found  her.  She 
was  wondering  where  the  wind  lived 
when  it  was  at  home,  which  reminded  her 
that  late  that  afternoon  her  father  and 
mother  were  expected  at  the  farm,  and 
with  them  a  little  girl  from  England  who 
was  her  father's  ward.  She  must  remem- 
ber to  get  back  to  the  house  in  time  to 
be  dressed  before  the  train  arrived.  Com- 
pany came  seldom  to  the  farm. 

Bob  leaned  his  head  over  her  shoulder 
and  kissed  her  left  cheek  just  under  her 
eye.  Little  Miss  Goosey  was  used  to  this 
form  of  greeting,  but  when  he  repeated  it 
three  times  she  stopped  thinking  her  queer 
thoughts  and  turned  around. 

"  You  dear  old  fubsy  thing !  "  she  cried, 
putting  her  arms  about  his  shaggy  neck. 
"  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

Bob  barked  twice  and  without  any  hesi- 
tation Little  Miss  Goosey  replied: 


"Oh,  are  they?  Well,  never  mind, 
Bobsy.  I'm  not  afraid  of  all  the  sheep 
and  the  old  black  ram,  so  long  as  you 
are  here.  They  will  go  over  toward  the 
cornfield  when  they  see  you." 

So  Bob  and  his  mistress  sat  there  air} 
discussed  important  questions,  till  it  was 
later  than  either  of  them  knew.  Suddenly 
Bob  growled,  and  Little  Miss  Goosey, 
turning  around,  saw  that  they  were  al- 
most surrounded  by  sheep.  In  the  fore- 
ground was  the  ferocious  old  black  ram. 
The  only  point  of  rescue  was  down  the 
steep  face  of  the  high  hill. 

Of  all  the  animals  on  the  farm,  Little 
Miss  Goosey  feared  the  black  ram  the 
most.  Even  the  cross-eyed  bull  and  the 
ring-nosed  white  pig  with  the  eleven  lit- 
tle ones,  were  gentle  in  comparison  with 
him.  Her  eyes  grew  big  with  watching 
him  edging  nearer  and  nearer,  and  she 
grabbed  Bob's  neck.  Bob  barked. 

"  I'm  afraid  it's  the  only  way,"  said  Lit- 
tle Goosey,  "  but  you  must  come  too, 
Bobsy.  I've  heard  Pops  tell  how  he 
used  to  go  down  Sheep  Hill  when  he 
was  a  boy.  You  and  I  will  outwit  the  old 
ram.  Come  on,  Bob." 

Little  Miss  Goosey  sat  sidewise  on  the 
brow  of  the  hill :  Bob  did  likewise. 

"  Now — one,  two,  three — go !  "  she 
called,  forgetting  her  fear  of  the  old  ram. 
Then,  laughing  gaily,  she  started  rolling 
down  the  steep  incline! 

The  old  black  ram  stood  on  the  pre- 
cise spot  where  Little  Miss  Goosey  had 
been  a  moment  before.  The  sheep 
crowded  around  him,  peering  curiously 
down  the  hill. 

If  the  old  black  ram  could  have  spoken 
he  would  have  exclaimed,  "  I  didn't  think 
they  dared ! " 

Round  and  round  and  round  she  went 
over  and  over,  faster  and  *~"**r.  Not 


a  single  breath  was  left  in  Little  Miss 
Goosey's  body,  and  Bob  had  not  fared 
much  better.  But  Little  Miss  Goosey 
was  winning  m  the  race ;  she  was  rounder 
and  bouncier,  and  Bob  got  tangled  up 
in  his  legs.  It  was  that  which  stopped 
him  short.  He  was  a  sadder  and  a  wiser 
dog  than  when  he  started;  also  more 
bruised  and  breathless.  Little  Miss 


change  her  course,  for  she  knew  as  well 
as  Bob  that  straight  ahead  of  her  was 
"  Buzzards  Bay,"  which  was  her  name  for 
a  great  hornets'  nest  in  the  road-co^er 
of  the  big  field  by  the  little  pond. 

Now,  if  suddenly  a  chubby  giant  should 
roll  down  upon  your  house,  breaking 
every  rafter  in  it  and  even  crushing  some 
of  your  family,  wouldn't  you  consider 


BOB    REACHED    THE   SPOT    ALMOSt    AS    SOON    AS   SHE    DID 


Goosey  was  still  rolling,  though  the  steep- 
est part  of  the  hill  was  past ;  faithful  Bob, 
shaking  each  one  of  his  four  legs  to  see 
that  they  were  not  punctured,  limped  after 
her. 

If  Little  Miss  Goosey  had  had  an  atom 
of  breath  left  to  think  with,  or  had  been 
able  to  see,  she  would  have  decided  to 


you  had  a  right  to  defend  yourself  in  any 
way,  even  to  biting?  Well  then,  you  can 
hardly  blame  the  hornets  for  treating  Lit- 
tle Miss  Goosey  as  they  did.  The  nest 
stopped  her  rolling  somewhat,  but  not 
enough  to  keep  her  from  going  on  a  few 
feet  further,  directly  into  the  little 
swampy  pond  beyond 


Bob  reached  the  spot  almost  as  soon 
as  she  did,  and  getting  her  belt  in  his 
teeth,  promptly  pulled  her  out  of  the 
water.  The  mud  bath  had  helped  to  dis- 
perse the  hornets,  and  the  water  helped 
Little  Miss  Goosey's  breath  back  again. 
She  gasped  as  Bob  affectionately  licked 
her  face. 

"  I  didn't  let  Little  Miss  Goosey  know 
I  was  off  to  meet  the  train,"  a  white- 
haired  man  was  saying  to  three  passen- 
gers in  his  wagon,  as  they  drove  by 
Sheep  Hill,  "  because  I  knew  she  would 
be  disappointed  not  to  come  with  me. 
Hello,  what  has  Bob  cornered  by  the 
fence?"  The  farmer  stopped  old  Billy 
Denton,  the  chestnut  horse,  and  Bob  gave 
a  joyful,  muddy  bark  of  relief  at  seeing 
someone  to  help  him. 

It  did  not  take  Mr.  Carter  half  a  min- 


ute to  jump  from  the  wagon,  and  vault 
the  bars.  In  another  half  -  minute  a 
muddy  bundle  was  sobbing  in  his  arms, 
and  a  lame  dog  was  delightedly  wagging 
a  lame  tail. 

Instead  of  showing  the  little  Ei/jlish 
girl  the  beautiful  playhouses  under  the 
hickories  down  the  lane,  and  in  the  old 
Jersey-sweet  tree ;  down  by  the  stone  wall 
near  the  house,  and  beneath  the  locust 
trees  on  South  Hill,  Little  Miss  Goosey 
lay  on  pillows  in  the  fourposter  bed  in 
the  great  southwest  room  where  she  was 
born  ten  years  before.  She  kept  very, 
very  still  for  some  days,  for  it  hurt  to 
move.  And  the  only  way  she  could  en- 
tertain her  visitor  was  by  telling  her  won- 
derful tales  of  things  that  were  happen- 
ing in  the  wall  paper. 


A   SURPRISE 

'T'HE  lollypops  all  popped  one  night, 

Without  a  word  of  warning. 
The  candyman  was  so  surprised 
To  find  them,  in  the  morning. 
They  overflowed  the  showcase  quite 

And  almost  filled  the  shop. 
The  weather  was  so  warm,  you  see, 
They  simply  had  to  pop! 

GRACE  STONE  FIELD. 


THE  CIRCLETS  OFF  TO  SCHOOL 


'JPHE  Circlets,  in  September, 

As  the  time  for  school  drew  near, 
Made  all  their  preparations 
In  a  manner  somewhat  queer. 


'TP  HE  children  practiced  circles 
And  succeeded  very  well, 
While  the  kitten  studied  cat-ching, 
And  the  dog  wrote  dog-gerel. 


IN  DRUMTOWN 

By  JOSHUA   F.  CROWELL 


|  HEN  Harry  was  four  years  old, 
he  wanted  to  know  what  was 
inside  his  red  drum.  He  cut  it 
open,  but  the  sound  flew  out  so 
quickly  he  could  not  catch  one  glimpse 
of  it. 

When  he  was  five,  he  had  a  yellow 
drum;  and  when  he  was  six,  he  had  a 
tin  one;  but  both  of  these  were  used 
up,  in  the  right  way — by  pounding  them. 
There  never  was  a  boy  any  fonder  of 
the  rub-a-dub-dub  or  th#*  tum-tum-tum  of 
a  drum  than  Harry. 

When  he  was  nearly  seven,  he  went 
with  his  father  and  mother  to  make  a 
visit  in  Drumtown. 

The  first  day  he  saw  thousands  of 
<lrums  of  all  sizes  and  colors  and  prices 


and  styles,  for  he  went  to  the  factory  and 
saw  them  made;  but  he  was  disappointed 
in  not  hearing  any. 

"  I  thought,  papa,"  he  said  confiden- 
tially, "that  there  would  be  an  awful 
racket  in  this  town;  but  all  the  men  are 
so  busy,  and  all  the  boys  are  playing 
games,  and  nobody  seems  to  care  about 
drums  but  me.  Just  think,  papa,  if  all 
the  big  and  little  drums  we  saw  to-day 
were  pounded  at  once,  what  a  grand 
noise  that  would  make !  " 

"I  think,"  said  his  father,  "you  would 
be  the  only  one  to  like  it;  this  seems  to 
be  a  very  quiet  place,  and  if  you  stayed 
here  a  year,  you  might  not  hear  the 
noise  of  a  single  drum." 

"  I  wish,"  said  Harry,  as  He  was 


ting  ready  for  bed,  "I  had  a  thousand 
drums  right  here,  so  I  could  pound  them 
now.  What  a  noise  it  would  make !  All 
the  people  would  think  it  was  Fourth  of 
July  come  too  soon !  " 

"  I  think,"  said  papa,  "*  you  would  not 
have  arms  enough  to  strike  more  than 
two  at  a  time." 

"  I  wish,"  said  Harry,  "  I  had  a  hun- 
dred arms,  and  every  arm  was  a  hundred 
times  as  long  as  it  is,  and  every  hand  had 
five  fingers,  and  every  finger  had  a  drum- 
stick tied  on,  then  I  would  flourish  all  my 
arms  and  wiggle  all  my  fingers,  and  bang 
all  the  drums  at  once." 

"  Well,"  said  his  father,  "  if  you  will 
go  to  sleep  now  and  dream  about  it,  I  will 
take  you  to-morrow  to  the  factory,  and  if 
by  that  time  you  have  managed  to  grow 
the  98  other  arms  you  want,  I  will  buy 
the  proper  number  of  drums." 

Harry  slept  like  a  top — or  like  a  drum- 
top — or  tight  as  a  drum — in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  all  night  long  he  dreamed  of  the 
rub-a-dub-dub  of  the  little  drum,  the 
rum-a-tum-tum  of  the  middle-sized  drum, 
the  pr-r-r-r  pr-r-r-r  of  the  fine  snare 
drum,  and  the  bum-turn  of  the  big  bass 
drum. 

In  the  morning  he  saw  some  boys 
playing  soldiers,  in  the  street  near  by,  to 
the  tune  of  a  fife. 

He  called  after  them,  "Where's  your 
drum?" 

The  boys  stopped.  "What  drum?" 
said  one  of  them. 

"  Soldiers  always  march  to  a  drum," 
answered  Harry. 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  said  another  boy.  "  I 
didn't  know  drums  could  be  played  with. 
J  thought  they  were  made  to  sell." 


All  the  other  boys  thought  the  same. 

Harry  tvas  surprised,  but  he  soot* 
found  that  he  was  the  only  boy  in  that 
town  who  had  ever  owned  or  whacked  a 
drum ;  he  was  also  the  only  boy  who  cared 
anything  about  it.  You  see,  all  the  boys' 
big  brothers  and  sisters  and  fathers  and 
uncles  and  grandfathers,  and  some  of  the 
mothers  and  grandmothers,  made  drums, 
or  parts  of  drums;  all  the  warehouses 
were  stored  full  of  drums;  all  the  teams 
carted  drums  to  the  station;  and  all  the 
freight  trains  that  left  were  loaded  with 
drums.  All  the  forest  that  grew  on  the 
hillside  was  cut  and  made  into  drum  bar- 
rels ;  all  the  sheep  that  grazed  in  the  mead- 
ows were  turned  into  drum-heads. 

Why!  every  chicken  in  town  made  two 
drumsticks ! 

All  the  paint  that  came  in  barrels  and 
carloads  was  for  painting  drums,  and  all 
the  money  that  was  earned  and  spent 
was  made  on  drums ! 

Drums  were  as  common  as — as  grass; 
and  not  a  boy  in  Drumtown — or  a  girl 
either — ever  thought  of  having  a  drum,  or 
pounding  on  it. 

Soon,  a  very  strange  thing  happened  to 
Harry.  He  changed  his  mind  about 
drums ! 

When  he  had  been  in  Drumtown  three 
days,  he  played  soldiers  with  the  other 
boys  without  a  drum,  and  liked  it  about 
as  well !  And  when  his  father  presented 
him  with  a  fine  large,  red,  shining  one, 
with  flags  and  banners  painted  on  it,  he 
said: 

"  Thank  you,  papa ;  pack  it  in  the  trunk 
till  we  get  home.  I'd  be  ashamed  to  hit 
it  even  once  in  Drumtown  it's  such  a 
quiet  place ! " 


BBaal  oooDjoa  ham 


VE  seen  great  sights 
within  my  time !  " 

Exclaimed     Old     Mister 
Martford ; 

"  But   the   greatest   sight    I  $ 
ever  saw 

My    father    saw    in    Hart- 
ford !  " 


DINAH 

THE  STORY  OF  A  PREHISTORIC  PET 

By  ELIZABETH  WEBB 


(OSSIBLY  Cousin  Jem  toU  the 
most  marvelous  tales  you  ever 
heard.  Certainly  the  children 
would  look  at  him  in  wide- 
eyed  wonder  and  delight  when  he  told  of 
his  own  adventures  or  of  those  of  his 
friends. 

One  rainy  day  the  "  three  terrors,"  as 
he  called  his  little  cousins,  found  him  in 
the  library. 

"  A  story !  A  story !  "  they  cried,  rush- 
ing upon  him. 

"What  kind  of  a  story?  "  asked  Cousin 
Jem  gooH-naturedly. 


"  Oh,  any  kind  !  "  cried  the  twins. 

"  A  'normous  one !  "  corrected  Danny. 
"  The  most  'normous  one  you  know." 

Cousin  Jem  scratched  his  head  thought- 
fully. "  All  right,"  he  said.  "  I  have  it." 

"  Is  it  true?  "  queried  Danny. 

"  You  ask  a  great  many  questions,"  said 
Cousin  Jem.  "  Wait  till  you  hear  it  and 
judge  for  yourself." 

This  is  the  story  Cousin  Jem  told! 

They  were  building  a  subway,  whicfr 
you  all  know  is  an  underground  tunnel, 
under  the  street  where  Teddy  and  Freddy 
and  Neddy  lived,  and  every  dav  «ft»r 


school  the  three  little  boys  would  go  and 
stand  on  the  edge  of  the  sidewalk  and 
watch  the  men  at  work.  Now  they  were 
standing  there  on  the  39th  of  Novem- 
buary  of  this  very  year,  when  Teddy, 
who  was  looking  down  into  the  subway, 
saw  all  the  workmen  suddenly  drop  their 
picks  and  shovels  and  begin  to  run  wildly 
in  all  directions,  like  ants  in  an  ant  hill 
when  you  stir  it  up  (which  you  must 
not). 

"  My  goodness  gracious  me ! "  said 
Teddy  to  Freddy  and  Neddy,  "  what 
makes  all  those  men  run  so  fast?  Just 
look  at  them ! "  And  Freddy  and  Neddy 
looked,  and  saw  all  the  workmen  run- 
ning out  of  the  tunnel,  looking  terribly 
scared.  They  all  scrambled  up  out  of 


the  subway  to  the  sidewalk,  and  ran  away 
down  the  street,  just  as  fast  as  if  they  were 
running  to  catch  a  train. 

Teddy  and  Freddy  and  Neddy  were 
very  much  astonished,  but  before  the^ 
had  time  to  run  away,  too,  the  earth 
yawned  and  the  street  under  their  feet 
shuddered  and  shook  so  that  all  the  little 
pebbles  began  rolling  down  the  sides  of  the 
subway.  And  then  the  earth  yawned 
again.  It  was  a  very  loud  yawn.  It  was 
about  seventy-five  times  louder  than  any 
yawn  Teddy  or  Freddy  or  Neddy  had 
ever  heard. 

Teddy  and  Freddy  and  Neddy  looked 
down  into  the  subway  where  the  sound 
came  from,  and  there  they  saw  something 
coming  out  of  the  dark,  black  tunnel 


They  were  so  astonished  they  just  stared 
(which  was  very  rude,  and  their  mother 
had  always  told  them  they  must  not). 
What  do  you  suppose  it  was?  It  was 
the  very  biggest  animal  they  had  ever 
seen.  It  looked  like  a  lizard,  and  it  walked 
like  «  kangaroo,  and  it  was  all  covered 
with  scales  like  a  fish.  As  it  came  slowly, 
slowly  out  of  the  dark,  black  tunnel  it 
rubbed  its  eyes  with  one  of  its  forepaws 
and  yawned  and  yawned,  and  between  its 
yawns  they  heard  it  saying  sleepily, 
"  Yes— yes— I'm  getting  up — I'll  be  ready 
.ror  breakfast — in — about  two  minutes " 

Then  all  at  once  it  caught  sight  of 
Teddy  and  Freddy  and  Neddy  as  they 
stood  together  on  the  sidewalk;  and  in  a 
minute  it  was  wide  awake,  and  it  said  all 
in  one  breath,  "  Hello  what's  your  name 
where  do  you  live  and  how  old  art 
you  ?  " 

"  My  name's  Teddy  Turtle.  I'm  eight- 
and-a-half,  and  I  live  right  in  that  house 
there,"  answered  Teddy  promptly,  for  it 
was  a  very  large  animal. 

"  Well,"  said  the  creature,  "  I'm  an  ex- 
tinct animal.  My  name  is  Dinosaurus, 
only  they  call  me  Dinah  for  short,  and 
I  did  live  in  a  beautiful  prehistoric  cave 
down  there,  only  those  bothersome  work- 
men came  and  dug  me  out,  and  my  age 
is — let  me  see.  What  year  is  it  now  ?  " 
and  when  Teddy  told  him,  "  You  don't 
mean  it !  "  he  cried.  "  Why,  I  was  seven 
when  I  went  to  sleep  and  that  was  in — 
goodness  gracious  me,  why,  I'm  ten  thou- 
sand and  seven  years  old!  Well,  I  have 
had  a  nap!  My,  but  I  am  hungry!  I 
haven't  had  anything  to  eat  for  ten  thou- 
sand years." 

"  Oh,  you  poor  dear  Dinosaurus !  "  cried 
Teddy  and  Freddy  and  Neddy.  "  Haven't 
you  had  anything  to  eat  in  ten  thousand 
years  ?  " 


"  Why,  how  could  I  ?  "  asked  the  Dino- 
saurus in  a  grieved  voice.  "  You  can't  eat 
when  you're  asleep,  can  you?  But,"  he 
continued  pensively,  "  I'm  not  asleep  now 
and  if  you  should  ask  me  home  to  lunch 

With  you "  and  he  looked  up  at  them 

with  an  engaging  smile. 

"  Yes,  do  come ! "  cried  Teddy  and 
Freddy  and  Neddy  all  together. 

"  Thank  you,"  smiled  the  Dinosaurus 
blandly.  "  I  believe  after  all  I  will." 

"  Only,"  said  Teddy,  "  you  could  never 
get  through  the  basement  gate.  I'm  afraid 
you  will  have  to  go  down  the  side  street 
and  a  little  way  along  the  back  street,  and 
climb  over  the  fence  next  to  the  one  that's 
just  been  painted.  Then  you  will  be  in 
our  back  yard  and  we  can  pass  you  your 
lunch  out  of  the  dining-room  window. 
You  are  tall  enough  to  reach  that 
easily." 

"  Is  there  a  good  bed  in  your  yard  ?  " 
asked  the  Dinosaurus  as  he  climbed  out  of 
the  subway. 

"  There's  a  flower  bed,"  said  Neddy  (he 
was  the  youngest),  "only  we  aren't  al- 
lowed even  to  step  on  it,  and  if  you  were 
to  go  to  sleep  on  it — my! — you  would  be 
sent  straight  to  your  room  and  wouldn't 
have  any  dessert  for  supper." 

At  this  the  Dinosaurus  looked  troubled. 
"  I  will  be  very  careful,"  he  said.  "  Now 
you  run  along  and  tell  your  mother  I'm 
coming.  And  have  something  good  for 
lunch,"  he  called  back  to  them,  as  he  dis- 
appeared around  the  corner. 

Teddy  and  Freddy  and  Neddy  ran  in  at 
the  basement  door  and  up  to  their  moth- 
er's room.  "  Oh,  mother !  "  they  cried  all 
together.  "  Do  come  and  look  at  the  Dino- 
saurus in  our  yard." 

"  We  found  him  in  the  subway !  "  cried 
Freddy. 

"Yes,0  cried  Neddy,  "and  we  asked 


him  to  come  and  live  with  us,  and  he  said 
he  would.  Do  come  and  see  him !  " 

Their  mother  looked  from  one  to  an- 
Dther  of  the  three  boys  and  then  she  said 
very,  very  gravely,  "  Theodore  and  Fred- 
erick and  Edward  "  (she  only  called  them 
their  names  when  they  were  naughty), 
"do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  have 
invited  a  Dinosaurus  to  come  and  live  in 
our  back  yard?  " 

"  But  he  is  a  lovely  Dinosaurus !  "  they 
all  cried  together. 

"  Well,"  said  their  mother  doubtfully, 
"  we  must  see  what  father  says  about  it." 

Father  said  a  great  deal  about  it  when 
he  came  home,  and  he  got  down  a  big 
wise  book  and  read  all  about  the  Dino- 
saurus. And  Teddy  and  Freddy  and 
Neddy  stood  around  him  and  cried  to- 
gether, "  Oh,  father,  please  can't  we  keep 
Dinah  for  a  pet  ?  " 

At  last  after  father  had  read  all  there 
was  to  read  in  the  great  wise  book,  he 
closed  the  cover  and  said,  "Very  well, 
boys,  you  may  try  it  for  a  week,  but  we 
can't  have  a  Mesozoic  reptile  living  in  the 
back  yard  all  the  time."  He  had  just 
found  those  two  big  words  in  the  great 
wise  book  and  he  was  very  proud  to  be 
able  to  say  them. 

So  Teddy  and  Freddy  and  Neddy  ran 
gleefully  down  into  the  back  yard  where 
they  found  Dinah  standing  in  the  middle 
of  the  grass  plot  (he  had  been  very  care- 
ful not  to  step  on  the  flower  beds). 

As  soon  as  he  saw  the  three  boys: 

"  What's  that  ?  "  he  said  pointing  to  one 
of  the  clothes-posts. 

"  Why,  a  clothes-post,  of  course,"  said 
Neddy. 

"  Don't  like  clothes-posts,"  said  the 
Dinosaurus,  and  he  bit  it  right  off  and 
swallowed  it. 

"  Oh,  oh,  oh  I  "  cried  Teddy  and  Freddy 


and  Neddy,  "  you  mustn't  please.  We're 
never  allowed  to  eat  the  clothes-posts." 

"  Well,"  said  the  Dinosaurus  grumpily, 
"  it  was  in  my  way.  How  can  I  sleep  com- 
fortably with  those  four  great  sticks  stick- 
ing up  in  my  bed?  But,"  he  continued, 
with  a  lofty  wave  of  his  paw,  "  we  won't 
say  anything  more  about  it.  Let  us  change 
the  subject.  What  are  you  going  to  have 
for  lunch?" 

"  Soft  custard,"  answered  Freddy. 

"  How  nice !  "  said  the  Dinosaurus.  "  1 
just  love  soft  custard.  Do  run  in,  Freddy, 
and  bring  me  five  or  six  barrels  of  it, 
please." 

"  Five  or  six  what  ?  "  gasped  Freddy. 

"  Barrels,  of  course,"  said  the  Dino- 
saurus. 

"  I  do  not  believe,"  said  Freddy  doubt- 
fully, "  that  mother  has  five  or  six  barrels 
of  it." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  Dinosaurus,  gra- 
ciously, "  bring  me  all  you  have,  and  tell 
the  cook  to  make  some  more." 

And  that  was  just  the  way  he  talked 
all  the  time  he  lived  in  the  Tuttles'  back 
yard.  All  day  long  he  kept  the  cook  busy 
making  soft  custard  for  him  and  all  night 
he  slept  on  the  grass  plot  and  snored  with 
such  loudness  that  nobody  for  blocks 
around  could  sleep.  So  when  the  end  of 
the  week  came  everybody  was  delighted, 
and  lather  ran  down  into  the  yard  right 
after  breakfast  to  say  good-by  to  Dinah — 
and  Teddy  and  Freddy  and  Neddy  came 
too. 

"  Well,  Dinah,"  father  began,  "  we're  so 
glad  you  have  such  a  fine  day  for  travel- 
ing. Good-by.  We're  sorry  you  can't  stay 
longer." 

The  Dinosaurus  opened  his  eyes  sleep- 
ily. "  Don't  distress  yourself,"  he  said 
politely.  "  I'm  not  going  for  three  or  four 
thousand  years.  In  fact  I  don't  know  that 


I  shah  ever  go.  I'm  so  comfortable  and 

happy  here "  and  he  shut  his  eyes  and 

smiled  contentedly. 

"  Yes,"  said  father,  trying  to  foe  polite, 
I  know  you  are,  but,  you  see,  the  neigh- 
bors don't  like  your  staying  here  and  they 
say  if  you  don't  go  straight  away  they  will 
send  a  policeman  here  to  arrest  you  as  a 
disturber  of  the  peace  of  the  community  " 
(father  liked  to  use  big  words)  "  and  they 
would  put  you  in  prison  and  give  you  noth- 
ing but  bread  and  water  to  eat." 

The  Dinosaurus  sat  up  and  his  eyes 
grew  round  with  fright.  "  Would  they 
really  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I'm  afraid  they  would,"  said  father 
seriously. 

The  Dinosaurus  stood  up  in  a  hurry. 
"  I  have  just  remembered  a  very  im- 
portant engagement,"  he  said.  "  Good-by, 
boys.  I  must  go  at  once,"  and  then  he 
looked  over  the  back  fence.  "  Oh,  my 


goodness  gracious  me ! '"'  he  t».^d,  "  there'* 
a  policeman  waiting  in  the  back  stseet 
now !  "  He  rushed  toward  the  side  fence, 
and  he  was  so  big  and  heavy  that  the 
fence  went  right  down  before  him ;  and  so 
did  the  next  and  the  next  just  like  a  row 
of  card  houses.  And  when  he  reached  the 
corner  he  looked  back  and  saw  Teddy  and 
Freddy  and  Neddy  running  after  him. 
And  he  turned  up  the  side  street  and  ran 
and  ran  just  as  fast  as  if  he  were  running 
to  catch  a  train.  An  he  was  running  to 
catch  a  train!  And  he  reached  the  rail- 
road track  just  as  the  express  train  with 
a  flat  car  on  the  end  of  it  was  pulling  out 
of  the  station.  And  he  ran  and  gave  one 
big  jump  and  landed  right  on  that  flat 
car ! 

And  Teddy  and  Freddy  and  Neddy 
reached  the  station  just  in  time  to  see,  in 
the  distance,  the  Dinosaurus  waving  them 
good-by  with  his  pocket  handkerchief. 


"  H.  ^^b:&:;i :^^x^^^^^^s™M«8sa^3^^ vsai".^ 


AN   AFTERNOON   CALL 


A^  old  witch  went  a-walking, 
And  called  upon  a  hag, 
She  hung  a  bonnet  on  her  head, 
And  'round  her  neck  a  bag. 


To  hear  those  two  a-talking 

Was  funny,  I  declare, 
But  I  couldn't  tell  you  what  about, 

Because  I  wasn't  there. 

HARRIET 


[HERE  was  once  a  Prince,  and 
he  lived  long  and  long  ago  in 
the  Midway  Islands.  His  king- 
dom was  called  the  Midway 
Islands  because  they  lay  in  the  wide  blue 
sea  between  the  Land  of  Content,  where 
sunshine  and  happiness  dwelt,  and  the 
Country  of  Dissatisfaction  that  was  full  of 
the  unpleasantest  things  you  can  think  of. 
Now  when  the  North  Wind  blew  from 
Dissatisfaction  it  brought  with  it  ugly, 
cold,  cross  fogs,  and  wrapped  them  around 
the  Islands  like  a  thick,  close  cloak;  and 
the  dampness  got  into  people's  bones,  and 
made  them  so  ill-natured  that  even  now 
when  grown  folks  are  out  of  sorts  they  say 
they  have  "  the  vapors."  But  when  the 
soft  South  Wind  came,  it  spread  all  around 
it  light  and  pleasantness,  for  in  each  sun- 
beam was  a  little  messenger  elf  sent  by 
Fairy  Sunshine  to  iron  out  the  frowns  that 
the  fogs  had  left.  And  these  busy  elves 
worked  so  hard  and  faithfully,  singing  all 
the  while  such  a  droll  ditty  about  the  Land 
of  Dissatisfaction,  that  the  children  began 
to  smile,  and  then  to  laugh  and  finally  ran 
about  the  streets  echoing  the  chorus, 

"  Oh,  an  evil  Land  is  Fuss  and  Fret, 
Ruled  by  their  Majesties,  Pout  and  Pet," 

until  they  quite  forgot  that  the  damp  mists 
had  ever  locked  them  in  and  made  them 
unhappy. 

Now  the  people  in  the  Midway  Islands 
have  had  the  sun  a^>4  the  flowers 


and  the  songs  all  the  time  if  they  had 
really  wished  for  them;  but  when  the 
light  was  there  they  were  too  busy  enjoy- 
ing themselves  to  urge  the  elves  to  stay, 
and  of  course  elves  are  too  well-bred  to 
stay  in  any  place  unless  they  are  especially 
invited.  And  when  the  fogs  came  back,  the 
Island  folk  were  too  hurried  scolding  and 
grumbling  at  their  bad  luck  to  think  what 
the  cause  really  was. 

One  day  the  cross  fogs  stayed  so  long 
that  they  got  into  the  Prince's  naughty 
bone,  so  that  when  the  wind  freshened 
and  blew  thousands  of  the  Queen's  mes- 
sengers to  the  Islands,  the  Prince,  instead 
of  running  to  meet  them,  went  into  the 
garden  to  hide.  Now  the  Prince  really 
wanted  to  go  back  to  the  happy  streets 
that  were  filled  with  music  and  laughter, 
and  he  knew  that  he  did,  and  that  made 
him  crosser  than  ever.  So  he  kinked  away 
at  a  pretty  pink  rose  bush,  and  trod  four 
of  the  buds  into  the  ground. 

Unfortunately  for  him  these  roses  had 
been  planted  by  Fairy  Sunshine  herself, 
in  the  hope  that  the  people  might  come 
to  love  the  sun  and  the  flowers  so  much 
that  the  ugly  fogs  would  never  come  back ; 
and  she  had  sent  her  own  especial  Rose- 
elf  to  watch  over  them.  But  the  Prince 
did  not  know  this — perhaps  he  would  not 
have  kicked  quite  so  hard  if  he  had — and 
the  sullen  look  was  still  on  his  face  when 
the  Rose-elf  popped  out  of  h*»r  Jvch  in  a 
great  rage. 


The  Rose-elf  has  a  temper  as  sharp  and 
prickly  as  her  thorns  when  she  is  pro- 
voked. "  You  unkind  Prince  to  undo  all 
my  work  when  I  am  trying  to  help  you, 
and  bring  the  sunshine  to  you !  "  she  cried. 

"Sunshine!  I  don't  want  sunshine 
here ! "  growled  the  Prince.  Indeed  the 
fog  must  have  taken  tight  hold  of  his 
naughty  bone. 

The  Rose-elf  looked  at  him  in  grief  and 
surprise.  "  I'm  sorry,"  she  said,  "  but  any- 
one who  says  such  a  thing  as  that  must 
go  where  there  is  no  sunshine  and  stay 
there  until  he  knows  what  it  is  to  miss  it. 
Four  years  you  must  stay  there;  a  year 
for  every  rose  you  have  ruined." 

With  that  she  whistled  the  South  Wind 
who  ran  swiftly  over  the  hills  to  do  her  bid- 
ding, singing  a  soft  little  song  as  he  came. 
And  the  Wind  gathered  up  the  Prince  in 
his  strong  arms,  and  bore  him  struggling 
over  the  blue  sea  to  a  land  no  one  had  ever 
heard  of,  and  popped  him  down  in  the 
dungeon  of  a  thick  gray  castle. 

The  room  he  was  in  was  not  even  light 
enough  for  him  to  read  a  story  book,  but 
it  was  the  l^jht  that  comes  at  noon  on  a 


gray  day;  and  it  never  brightened  and  it 
never  waned.  At  first,  the  Prirtce  was 
just  as  cheerless  as  his  room,  but,  by  and 
by,  when  weeks  and  months  had  passed, 
he  began  to  grow  restless  and  lonesome. 
At  first  he  said :  "  I  would  not  mind  see- 
ing a  little  sunshine,  just  for  a  change," 
and  then,  "  Perhaps  the  sun  is  really 
pleasanter  than  the  fog."  And  at  last  he 
pressed  his  face  against  the  glass,  and 
looked  out  into  the  grayness,  crying,  "  Oh, 
if  Fairy  Sunshine  would  only  send  me  one 
little  sunbeam  messenger !  " 

The  next  morning  there  was  a  tiny, 
flickering  ray  resting  on  a  small  green 
plant  that  seemed  to  have  sprung  up  in 
the  night.  The  Prince  was  so  glad  to  see 
the  sun  and  the  plant  that  he  watched  them 
all  morning.  Each  day  the  sunbeam  grew 
brighter,  and  the  plant  became  larger  and 
taller,  until  the  Prince  grew  to  love  them 
both  dearly,  and  to  watch  with  happiness 
the  plant  turning  to  the  sun,  and  the  rays 
caressing  the  green,  glossy  leaves. 

He  kept  on  loving  the  plant,  and  the  sun 
rose  more  and  more  every  day.  One 
morning  he  was  awakened  by  the  bright- 


est  ught  he  had  ever  sees  Tht  room 
was  full  of  sunshine,  and  around  the  plant 
a  thousand  little  sun-elves  were  clustered. 
The  plant  had  bloomed  in  the  night,  and 
the  single  blossom  that  rested  like  a  star 
in  the  green  leaves  was  the  most  beauti- 
ful flower  in  the  whole  world.  It  had  the 
color  of  the  rose,  with  the  sweetness  of 
the  violet,  and  its  petals  were  glossy  like 
the  tulip,  and  glistening  like  the  lily. 

And  there,  patting  and  pulling  its  petals 
into  place,  just  as  a  mother  pulls  out  the 
lace  frills  about  a  baby's  neck  and  wrists, 
sat  Rose-elf,  as  pink  and  as  pretty  as  ever, 
and  not  at  all  cross.  She  called  the  Prince 
to  her,  and  said  very  kindly,  "  The  four 
years  are  up  now,  and  because  you  have 
learned  to  love  the  sun,  the  Flower  of 
Content  has  bloomed.  And  because  you 
understand  the  language  that  the  plants 
speak,  you  must  go  to  another  country 
where  there  are  no  flowers  and  show  the 
people  how  to  make  them  grow,  and  you 
must  take  the  Flower  of  Content  with 
yod." 

Then  again  she  whistled  to  the  South 
Wind,  who  hurried  to  do  her  bidding, 
humming  the  same  song;  and  he  picked 
the  Prince  up  in  his  strong  arms  and  bore 
him  away  to  the  Porcelain  Land,  where 
the  people  were  very  unhappy,  although 
their  country  was  the  pinkest  and  whitest 
and  neatest  and  sweetest  country  ever 
seen.  They  were  sorrowful  because  no 
flowers  would  ever  grow  there.  Try  as 
hard  as  they  might  they  could  do  nothing 
because  there  were  no  lanes  nor  gardens 
in  Porcelain  Land;  only  neat,  white-tiled 
streets  and  courts,  and  beyond  the  city  lay 
miles  and  miles  of  clay  that  they  dug  and 
baked  and  made  into  porcelain  houses  and 
furniture.  The  only  flowers  that  these 
Porcelain  People  had  were  the  little  stiff 
tmds  and  blossoms  that  were  painted  on 


their  chairs  and  plates  and  houses — every- 
thing they  had  was  made  of  porcelain — 
but  these  were  very  unsatisfactory,  for  you 
could  not  pick  them,  nor  smell  them,  and 
they  were  not  at  all  like  the  real  roses  and 
violets  that  we  have.  They  were  just  like 
the  flowers  on  your  mother's  best  dinner- 
set,  and  those,  you  know,  can  never  be 
plucked. 

The  people  were  all  so  unhappy  in  their 
blossomless  land  that  the  King  had  prom- 
ised his  daughter,  the  Pretty  Princess  of 
Porcelain  Town,  to  whomever  could,  should 
or  would  make  flowers  grow  in  his  king- 
dom. Now  a  great  many  princes  and  lords 
and  duke  and  peasants,  too,  had  tried  hard 
to  do  this,  for  the  Pretty  Princess  was  very 
pretty  indeed,  prettier  than  any  porcelain 
shepherdess  you  ever  saw.  They  all  failed, 
but  they  were  not  beheaded,  for  the  King 
would  not  cut  off  their  heads  because  he 
was  a  tidy  King,  and  said  it  would  make 
such  a  mess  in  his  snow-white  streets,  so 
he  only  sent  them  away,  and  kept  on  feel- 
ing blue. 

So  when  the  King  saw  the  beautiful 
flower  with  the  sunlight  on  its  leaves  he 
ordered  the  Prince  to  be  brought  to  him 
that  he  might  look  at  the  blossom.  Then 
he  offered  the  Prince  a  stupendous  amount 
of  money,  but  the  Prince  refused  to  sell 
the  Flower  of  Content,  and  told  the  King 
who  he  was  and  why  he  had  come. 

Then,  in  truth,  there  were  great  re- 
joicings, for  as  soon  as  the  people  heard 
that  the  Prince  had  been  sent  by  the  Sun- 
shine Fairy  to  help  them,  they  knew  that 
something  must  really  come  of  it.  And 
something  did,  for  the  Prince,  after  lay- 
ing his  cheek  against  his  dear  flower  and 
whispering  to  it  in  a  strange  tongue,  called 
together  the  cleverest  porcelain  workmen, 
and  told  them  to  make  deep  clay  pots, 
hundreds  and  hundreds  of  them;  and  this 


was  rfie  beginning-  of  the  flower-pots  we 
use  in  our  homes  now.  Then  the  Prince 
whistled  up  the  South  Wind,  and  sent  him 
hurrying  over  hill  and  dale  to  bring  back 
loads  of  earth  in  his  strong  arms.  And 
then  he  bade  the  workmen  fill  the  pots  with 
this  earth,  and  in  each  pot  he  planted  a  seed 
of  th  Flower  of  Content.  The  next 
morning  all  the  seeds  had  sprung  into  tiny 
plants  and  so  wonderful  was  the  magic 
of  the  flower  that,  though  all  of  the 
blossoms  were  beautiful,  each  was  dif- 
ferent 

The  proud  King  embraced  the  Prince 
and  gave  him  his  daughter,  the  Pretty 
Princess  of  Porcelain  Land,  and  the  peo- 
ple were  all  so  happy  over  their  posies  that 
they  danced  in  crowds  around  the  palace 
and  sang  songs  about  the  brave,  kind 


Prince  who  had  brought  the.  Flower  of 

Content  to  them. 

Then  the  Prince  and  the  Princess  rtrerc 
married  with  all  the  small  sunbeam  fairiea 
for  attendants,  and  the  Rose-elf  for  maid 
of  honor;  and  the  South  Wind  came  and 
whisked  them  away  in  his  strong  arnts  to 
the  Midway  Islands,  the  Prince's  king- 
dom. 

Here  the  Prince  also  planted  seeds  from 
the  Flower  of  Content,  and  from  these 
seeds  sprang  up  the  same  lovely  blossoms, 
and  ringed  the  people  round  with  a  wall  of 
beauty  and  perfume,  so  that  the  ugly 
vapors  could  never  come  near  them  again. 

And  here  the  Prince  and  the  Pretty 
Princess  made  their  home,  now  called  the 
Isles  of  Happiness  because  the  people  all 
loved  the  sunbeam  messengers  so  dearly. 


THE    FAIRY    EYE-GLASSES 


VyHEN  Alma  Hunt 
awoke  on  her  seventh 
birthday  the  first  thing  she  saw  was  a  row 
of  seven  little  candles  placed  on  the  foot 
of  her  bed.  They  were  burning  cheerily 
and  helped  her  to  get  up  earlier  than  was 
her  custom  in  cold  weather,  and  she  sur- 
prised her  parents  by  being  the  first  one 
down  to  breakfast. 

After  breakfast  Alma's  mamma  gave 
her  a  tiny  box,  and  hastily  opening  it  she 
found  a  beautiful  gold  thimble.  Most 
little  girls  would  have  been  delighted  with 
such  a  nice  present,  but,  as  Alma  ex- 
pressed it,  she  "hated"  sewing,  aivi  now 
she  knew  that  her  mamma  intended  to 
give  her  sewing  lessons  very  soon. 

With  a  scowl  of  discontent  on  her  face 
Alma  left  the  house  and  went  for  a  walk 
in  a  clump  of  woods  near  by.  This  grove 
was  a  favorite  haunt  of  the  little  girl, 
and  she  always  went  there  when  she  was 
extra  cross. 

Alma  had  just  seated  herself  comfort- 
ably on  a  fallen  log  and  was  beginning  to 
wpnder  when  mamma  would  give  her  the 


By  PEARL  PRUIT 

first  sewing  lesson,  when  she  beheld  an 
object  before  her  that  surprised  her  so 
that  she  came  near  falling  from  her  seat. 

There  stood  a  little  man,  no  taller  than 
her  thumb.  He  was  gorgeously  dressed. 
His  tiny  trousers  were  of  soft  green 
moss;  his  cloak  was  made  of  cloth  that 
the  silk-worms  had  woven;  and  his  cap 
was  fashioned  from  a  buttercup  petal. 

What  surprised  Alma  most  was  the 
gloomy  expression  upon  the  small  face. 
Almost  before  she  knew  it  she  exclaimed: 
"Why,  what  is  the  matter?  Can  I  help 
you  in  any  way  ?  " 

The  little  man  was  much  surprised  at 
being  addressed,  as  evidently  he  had  not 
noticed  Alma  before,  but  after  surveying 
her  a  few  minutes  he  said :  "  Well,  I  do 
wish  I  could  get  someone  to  help  me.  You 
see,  I  am  king  of  the  fairies,  and  we  have 
planned  a  fine  ball  for  to-night,  but  the 
court  ladies  can't  find  anyone  to  make 
their  dresses,  and  they  declare  they  won't 
attend  the  ball  unless  they  have  new  ones. 
I  assure  you  we  gentlemen  are  in  despair. 
Can  you  sew,  and  do  you  think  YOU  **an 


.Make  the  fairies'  dresses?"  he  asked 
eagerly. 

The  question  almost  took  Alma's 
breath  away,  but  she  decided  to  try,  as 
she  was  sorry  for  the  little  king. 

"  Where  will  I  get  material  for  them  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  Oh,  I'll  manage  that,"  responded  the 
little  man,  and  he  disappeared  in  the  for- 
est before  Alma  could  say  another  word. 
He  soon  returned,  however,  with  his  arms 
full  of  beautiful  fabrics  for  making 
fairies'  clothes.  There  were  rose-petals 
of  all  colors,  butterfly  wings,  cobweb-lace, 
dewdrops,  and  ever  so  many  more  pretty 
things. 

Alma  began  to  think  it  would  be  great 
fun  after  all,  even  if  she  did  dislike  to 
sew.  "  But  what  am  I  to  sew  with  ?  "  she 
asked.  Again  the  king  went  into  the  for- 
est and  came  back  with  all  the  implements 
for  sewing.  The  thimble  was  exactly  like 
the  one  her  mamma  had  given  her  that 
morning,  and  Alma  flushed  guiltily  as  she 
took  it. 

The  scissors  were  made  of  tiny  grass 
blades,  the  needle  of  a  sharp  seed,  and  the 
thread  was  silk  from  a  spider's  web. 

"  Now,"  said  the  little  fellow,  "  I  guess 
we  would  better  make  the  queen's  dress 
first.  It  must  be  of  purple  pansy  petals, 
trimmed  with  cobweb-lace  and  dewdrops." 

"  Oh,  how   lovely  that  will  be ! "  ex- 


claimed Alma;  and  she  begah  to  unwind 
some  silk  to  thread  her  needle.  It  took 
some  time  to  do  this  as  the  needle  was 
very  fine,  but  at  last  she  succeeded,  and 
began  to  sew,  talking  all  the  while  to  the 
fairy.  Suddenly,  looking  down  at  the 
work,  the  little  man  exclaimed: 

"Oh,  what  long  stitches  you  are  ta> 
ing!" 

Alma  blushed  to  the  roots  of  her  hair. 
She  had  always  been  in  such  a  hurry  to 
get  through  her  sewing  that  she  had  not 
learned  to  take  short  stitches,  and  to  be 
reproved  by  such  a  tiny  person  was  very 
humiliating1. 

"  Oh,  I  forgot  the  stitches  were  for 
fairies,"  she  stammered. 

"  Never  mind,"  interrupted  the  king. 
"  I'll  get  you  some  fairy  glasses ;  I  think 
they  will  help." 

"  Indeed  they  do,"  said  Alma,  when 
they  were  firmly  fastened  on  her  nose. 
After  this  the  work  progressed  nicely. 

When  the  dresses  were  finished  the 
fairy  plucked  a  large  leaf,  laid  the  dainty 
garments  on  it,  and  pinned  the.  covering 
together  with  a  thorn.  After  he  had  done 
this  he  turned  to  Alma  with  a  courtly 
bow. 

"  I'm  sure  all  the  fairies  would  like  you 
to  attend  the  ball,  but  I'm  afraid  you  are 
too  large,"  he  said  regretfully.  "  We  will 
repay  you  some  day,  however,"  he  con- 


tinned  Then  turning  toward  the  forest 
he  utteicd  a  low  call.  Immediately  four 
beautiful  butterflies  fluttered  down.  Tak- 
ing some  silk  from  a  spider's  web  near 
by  the  fairy  king,  who  seemed  quite  able 
to  do  all  his  own  work,  soon  had  his  team 
harnessed  to  the  load  of  dainty  dresses. 
He  bade  Alma  good-by,  and  climbing  on 
his  load  was  borne  swiftly  away. 

Alma  watched  until  he  was  out  of 
sight,  then  she  started  up  and  rubbed  her 
eyes.  As  her  hands  fell  in  her  lap  she 
felt  something  hard,  and  putting  her  hand 
in  her  pocket  drew  out  the  gold  thimble  that 


her  mamma  had  given  her  that  morning. 

"  It's  just  like  the  fairy  king's,"  she 
mused.  "  I  wonder  if  I  really  saw  him 
or  if  I  dreamed  it  all,"  and  she  was  very 
thoughtful  all  the  way  home. 

When  she  reached  the  house  she  told 
her  mother  about  her  strange  experi- 
ence, and  added :  "  Mamma,  I'm  going  to 
learn  to  sew  neatly,  and  whenever  I  work 
I  will  pretend  I  have  on  those  fairy 
glasses,  so  I  will  make  short  stitches; 
but  I'm  glad  I  don't  have  to  make  my 
stitches  quite  so  short  as  when  I  was 
making  the  fairies'  dresses." 


THE  VftN  NESS  FAMILY 


By  EDNA  A.  NEEDLES 


S  ELEANOR  BLYTHE,  the  new 
boarder  at  Brown's  Mountain 
House,  left  the  porch  and  the  hammock 
where  she  had  been  enjoying  the  wide- 
spread view,  and  entered  one  of  the  many 
delightful  trails  that  led  into  the  redwoods. 
The  path  she  chose  was  one  she  had  seen 
little  Helen  Brown  take  earlier  in  the 
morning,  and  soon  she  came  upon  the  child 
seated  on  a  stump,  gazing  intently  into  a 
big  box  which  rested  upon  another  taller 
stump,  and  talking  earnestly  to  herself. 

Coming  nearer,  Miss  Blythe  discovered 
that  the  box  Helen  sat  before  was  really  a 
doll-house.  The  dolls,  however,  were 
nothing  but  little  rolls  of  white,  dressed 
in  cotton  frocks. 

At  the  sound  of  approaching  footsteps 
Helen  started  and  looked  around.  But 
the  gay  friendliness  of  Miss  Blythe's  smile 
reassured  her,  and  the  real  understanding 
and  sympathy  in  her  voice,  as  she  asked, 
"  Could  I  play  with  you  for  a  while, 
Helen?"  completely  won  the  little  girl's 
heart. 

"  I'll  be  so  glad  to  have  you,"  she  replied 
wistfully. 

"  Tell  me  about  your  family,"  said  Miss 
Blythe,  sitfins:  down  on  a  moss-covered 
stonr 


"  Well,  this  is  Mrs.  Santos,  and  this  is 
Mr.  Santos," — Helen  held  up  the  two  larg- 
est of  the  homemade  dolls.  "  And  these," 
— she  displayed  half  a  dozen  smaller  ones, 
— "  are  their  children.  The  Santoses  are 
of  a  nice  old  Spanish  family,  but  they  are 
very  poor,  and  are  all  taking  care  of  this 
house  until  the  real  owners  come  back. 
When  the  real  owners  come,  the  Santoses 
will  have  to  go  away.  But  the  real  owners 
are  splendid  people  and  have  lots  of  money, 
so  they  will  pay  the  Santoses  for  keeping 
this  so  nice,  and  will  build  them  a  dear 
little  house  near  this  one." 

"Who  are  the  'real  owners?'"  asked 
Miss  Blythe  with  deepening  interest. 

"  The  Van  Ness  family.  They  are  in 
Europe  now.  They  have  been  traveling  for 
years.  There  is  Mr.  Van  Ness;  and  Mrs. 
Van  Ness,  and  Arthur  and  Evelyn 
(Arthur's  twelve  and  Evelyn's  ten)  and 
Ruby  and  Pearl,  and  little  Freddy  and  the 
baby.  It's  a  lovely  family.  Oh,  I  do  so 
wish  they  could  come  home !  " 

"And  why  can't  they?"  asked  Misfl 
Blythe. 

"  Why,  you  see,"  explained  Helen  sad- 
ly, "they  are  real  dolls  in  a  store  some- 
where, probably  in  San  Francisco,  and  we 
never  can  gro  there,  it's  so  far  away.  They 


oon't  keep  cnem  in  San  Ramon  where 
mother  buys  her  things,  so  sometimes  it 
looks  as  if  they  never  could  come  home. 
But  then,"  she  continued,  her  face  bright- 
ening, "  I  have  a  good  deal  of  fun  with 
the  Santoses.  They  got  a  letter  yester- 
day saying  Mrs.  Van  Ness  was  better — 
she's  been  very  sick — and  they  think  now 
surely  Mr.  Van  Ness  will  bring  her  home, 
so  Mrs.  Santos  is  having  the  whole  house 
cleaned." 

The  doll-house  proved  upon  close  in- 
spection to  be  made  of  two  boxes,  one  set 
upon  the  other.  Upstairs  were  two  bed- 
rooms. Here  small  pasteboard  boxes 
served  for  beds.  In  each  bed  was  a  beau- 
tifully made  little  mattress,  pillows,  sheets, 
tiny  quilts  and  pretty  white  coverlets. 

"  Mother  helped  me  to  make  them,"  said 
Helen. 

The  carpet  upstairs  was  a  piece  of  blue 
checked  gingham,  and  the  walls  both  up 
and  downstairs  were  papered  in  a  plain 
buff  color. 

"  I  pasted  the  paper  on  and  nailed  the 
carpet  down,"  Helen  said  with  some  little 
pride.  "  Father  put  the  walls  in,"  and  she 
pointed  to  the  pasteboard  divisions  be- 
tween the  two  bed-rooms,  and  between 
the  living-room  and  kitchen,  "  and  made 
the  windows  for  me,  but  I  put  the  curtains 
tip." 

The  white  cheesecloth  curtains  were 
very  pretty.  So,  indeed,  was  every- 
thing about  the  little  house.  The  living- 
room  boasted  a  fireplace;  a  pictured  fire- 
place, cut  from  a  magazine  and  pasted  to 
the  wall.  Helen  had  painted  some  red 
flames  in  the  grate,  and  it  seemed  to  her 
nothing  could  be  cheerier.  On  the  floor 
were  the  dearest  little  red-and-black  and 
blue-and-white  knitted  rugs,  the  work  of 
Grandmother  Brown's  hands,  and  for 
tables  there ,  vvere  boxes  covered  with 


dainty  white  cloths.  A  number  of  beauti- 
ful shiny  horse  chestnuts,  drawn  cosily 
up  before  the  fire,  represented  antique 
walnut  chairs. 

In  the  kitchen  a  big  black  spool  wit!^  «* 
pencil  stuck  into  it,  made  a  very  goou 
stove  and  pipe,  and  on  the  kitchf  i  table 
were  a  number  of  acorn  cups  which 
served  nicely  for  dishes. 

Miss  Blythe  and  Helen  became  very 
dear  friends,  and  every  day  they  spent 
some  time  together  at  "  Hidden  Villa," 
for  that  was  the  name  of  the  Van  Ness' 
forest  home. 

One  day  Helen  brought  out  a  little 
covered  basket,  and  shyly  displayed  its 
contents.  It  was  full  of  small  doll  clothes. 
"  These  are  for  the  Van  Nesses,"  she  ex- 
plained simply. 

There  were  long  trailing  house  dresses 
for  Mrs.  Van  Ness,  frocks  and  aprons  for 
the  girls,  and  cunning  white  garments  for 
Freddy  and  baby  Dorothy. 

"  I  didn't  make  anything  for  Arthur  and 
his  father,"  she  confessed,  "  for  I  didn't 
know  how." 

After  that,  Miss  Blythe  helped  her  make 
clothes.  Several  suits  were  made  for  Mr. 
Van  Ness  and  Arthur,  and  then  they  be- 
gan making  party  clothes  for  Mrs.  Van 
Ness  and  the  children. 

The  day  before  Miss  Blythe  went  away, 
they  fixed  up  a  little  home  for  thf»  Santos 
family  near  Hidden  Villa. 

"  I  feel  very  sure,"  said  Miss  Blytht 
"  that  the  Van  Nesses  will  soon  be  here, 
and  we  want  to  have  everything  in  readi- 
ness for  their  coming." 

The  next  morning  she  was  whirled 
away  in  the  stage,  and  Helen,  a  very  dis- 
consolate little  figure,  stood  looking  down 
the  winding  road  until  the  last  cloud  of 
dust  had  rolled  away.  Then,  trying  to 
comfort  herself  with  the  thought  of  the 


tetu..  that  was  to  come,  she  walked  un- 
steadily toward  the  house.  She  could  not 
see  very  well,  for  in  spite  of  herself  the 
tears  would  come. 

For  the  next  few  days,  her  mother  kept 
her  busy  huckleberrying.  Ordinarily  she 
enjoyed  this  very  much,  for  the  huckle- 


little  in  planning  to  bring  Miss  Blythe 
down  here  some  time  during  the  coming 
summer. 

The  evening  of  the  third  day,  the  lum- 
berman who  usually  brought  the  afternoon 
mail  up  the  mountain,  handed  Helen  a 
letter  and  a  package. 


"HIDDEN    VILLA."    THE    HOME    OF    THE    VAN    NESS    FAMILY 


berries  were  thickest  down  a  deep  and 
beautiful  canyon  where  ferns  and  the 
sweet  scented  yerba  buena  grew  among 
thickets  of  snow  drops  and  wild  roses, 
evn  now  she  forgot  her  loneliness  a 


"Dear  little  friend,"  (began  the  letter),  "Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Van  Ness  and  the  children  have  re- 
turned from  abroad.  I  found  them  staying  tenv 
porarily  in  a  store  here  in  the  city.  The  travell- 
ing suits  they  are  wearing  I  made  for  them 
when  I  was  with  you,  evenings  after  you  had 


gone  to  bed.    I  knew  the  Van  Ness  family  when 
I  found  them,  because  the  clothes  fitted  them  so 
well.    Hoping  to  see  you  all  next  summer, 
"  I  am  lovingly  yours, 

"ELEANOR  BLYTHE." 

The  Van  Ness  family! 

Helen  gave  a  little  inarticulate  cry  of 
joy  as  she  bent  over  the  box  in  which 
they  lay,  and  it  was  with  trembling  fingers 
that  she  lifted  them  out. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Van  Ness  were  slender 
dolls  with  china  heads  and  cloth  bodies. 
The  rest  of  the  family  were  bisque  with 
jointed  arms  and  legs  and  very  plump 
bodies.  Evelyn  and  Pearl  had  long  flax- 
en curV,  but  Ruby's  hair  was  black  and 


hung  in  a  braid.  Mr.  Van  Ness  and  Ar- 
thur wore  light  grey  suits,  the  rest  of  the 
family,  however,  were  dressed  in  heavy 
white  linen. 

Helen  took  them  all  in  her  apron  and 
started  down  the  trail  toward  Hidden 
Villa. 

"  There  will  be  time  to  show  them  over 
the  house  before  dinner,  won't  there, 
mother?"  she  called  back. 

"  Yes,  dear  heart,"  her  mother  replied, 
'  and  be  sure  you  bring  them  up  to  spend 
the  evening." 

And  so,  at  last,  after  long  wanderings, 
the  Van  Ness  family  entered  the  ances- 
tral home. 


(IONSEN5E  RHYMES 

DOROTHY  rtCKIN 


The   «&me    we    ute 
on  tkbles?  * 


These   arnd.ll    boya  thought 
They'd     have    some    sport 

,.V/ifc    tfood    old     Dr.  Gee* 
BuTThey    ffoT    left- A* 
you   c&n  see- 


UW*     ftelinda.  be *T 
11*  is    b«cvu«e 
1Viey   tiiiak    he* 
intended 


PHOEBE  GREEN 


CO  this  is  little  Phoebe  Green, 
°   The  image  of  her  Pa. 
Come,  tell  me  how  you  are,  my  child — 
Tut,  tut'  V*«  shy  you  are! 


"  I  am  not  shy,"  lisped  Phoebe  Green, 
"  But  it  so  plainly  shows — 

I  knew  at  once  you  were  the  Wolf 
Dressed  up  in  Gran'ma's  clo'esl" 


*  »«-y 

Aet    Gemf™  1*2  Vho 

show    Theit--» 


-r'Vli    traveled    in 
A  Evelyn  Mae; 

"  We  all  lived  abroad  for  a  year  " ; 
The  others  just  sighed  in  an  envious  way, 
And  «ome  of  them  murmured,   "  Oh, 
dear." 

Said  Dorothy  Jane,  "  I  have  never  been 

there 

But  I've  been  to  Niagara  Falls, 
And  that  is  important;  you  look  every- 
where 
And  see  only  water,  like  walls." 

"  It  must  have  been  lovely,"  said  Rosalie 

Jo; 

"  One  time  /  was  down  in  a  mine, 
'Way  under  the  earth,  and  we  all  had 

to  go 
In  a  car,  on  a  sort  of  incline." 

Then  Jack  declared  loudly  the  best  time 

that  he 

Ever  had  was,  when  he  and  Joe  Small 
Went,  out  on  me  trolley  last  summer  to  see 
^he   "  Giants  "   and    "  Yankees"   play 
ball! 


GREAT  EVENTS 

Europe,"    quoth          "  Oh,  that  isn't  anything !  "  cried  Mary 

Ruth. 

"  You  just  ought  to  go  to  the  Zoo! 
They  have  animals — bears,  lions,  camels — 

in  truth, 

Every    kind,    and    some    other   kinds, 
too." 

Said  little  John  Henry,  "  Now  I  know  a 

thing 

Much  better  than  all  of  the  rest ; 
Yes,   better   than   Europe   and    Niagara 

Falls; 
'Tis  Buffalo  Bill's  Wildest  West!" 

"  7  rode  on  an  engine  with  papa  one  day," 
Said  Margaret  Milly,  with  pride; 

"  The  wind  was  so  strong  J  almost  blew 

away, 
And  had  to  hold  on  to  the  side; 

"  And,  Oh,  but  it  jolted !  "    Then  Baby* 
kin  Lou 

Interrupted,  with  eyes  very  bright, 
But  a  serious  voice :  "  /  did  somefin',  too 

I  stayed  up  till  'leven  one  night." 


THE  FRETFUL  THERMOMETER 


me!"  quoth  Thermometer 
•-      In  querulous  tones, 
"  How  this  shocking  bad  weather 
Gets  into  one's  bones! 

"  My  constitution's  not  strong, 

So  'tis  not  at  all  strange 
That  I  notice  the  weather 

And  feel  every  change. 

"  Pshaw !  how  some  cranky  folks 

Do  fuss  and  complain ! 
I  declare  I'm  quite  sick 

™  the  tiresome  refrain ! 


"  It's  nothing  but  '  weatne 

From  morning  till  night; 
Now  *  too  cold,'  then  '  too  hot  '— 

It's  never  just  right! 

"  But  bless  me!  'tis  useless 

To  try  to  please  all; 
While  one  begs  me  to  rise 

Someone  else  cries :  '  Please  fall !  * 

"  All  the  world  seems  to  fret, 

And  alas !  I'm  distressed 
To  find  that  I'm  growing 

As  bad  as  the  rest ! " 

LEILA  LYON  TOPPING 


THE  ANTS  OF  ANTIC 

By  JOSHUA  F.  CROWELL 


TJJPflE 


HE  dear  little  ant  named 
Myra  was  having  a  party  in 
the  best  sand  parlor  of  her 
ant-hill  home.  Many  charm- 
ing lady  ants  were  present,  all  seated 
on  pebble  chairs  around  a  nice  stone  table. 
Tippie,  the  little  waitress  ant,  was  bring- 
ing in  the  lunch  of  caterpillar  pie  and 
beetle  stew,  but  just  as  she  reached  the 
table  her  poor  little  tired  arms  gave  out, 
and  she  dropped  the  pie  and  the  stew,  too ; 
the  pie  broke  in  two,  and  the  stew  flew. 

Said  Myra,  "  Oh !  Tippie,  how  could 
you?"  Tippie  shed  a  tear  or  two,  and 
perhaps  172,  and  then  replied: 

"  I  am  tired.  I  have  worked  six  days 
without  resting,  and  my  feet  are  all  curly, 
they  are  so  tired.  I  wish  I  was  the  slug- 
gard, that  had  to  go  to  the  ants,  and  not 
a  poor  ant  that  has  to  do  all  the  work, 
besides  having  sluggards  coming  on  at 
mv  time." 


With  these  words  she  ran  away.  The 
ant  ladies  all  arose  and  bowed  politely, 
and  left.  Myra  was  alone.  It  was  three 
o'clock.  Myra  took  the  chairs  one  by 
one  and  carried  them  through  the  hall 
and  the  pantry,  down  the  stairs,  through 
the  cellar,  up  the  stairs,  through  the  back 
pantry,  through  the  upper  hall  and  all  the 
bedrooms,  up  the  attic  stairs  and  down 
again,  and  finally  through  the  front  door, 
and  tossed  them  on  a  big  heap  of  sand 
called  "  The  Ant  Hill."  It  took  time. 

When  it  was  done,  she  brought  them 
all  back  again,  through  the  same  rooms, 
up  and  down,  and  in  and  out,  and  round 
about.  This  took  more  time.  Myra  was 
pleased  at  what  she  had  done,  so  she  did 
it  all  over  again. 

It  was  now  six  o'clock.  The  sun  was 
setting.  Tippie  was  already  asleep  and 
dreaming  of  sluggards. 

Myra  was  not  sleepy  a  bit,  so  she  be- 
gan to  clean  house.  She  took  up  all  the 
floors  and  carried  them  outdoors,  she  took 
down  all  the  walls  and  put  them  in  the 
halls.  Next  she  put  everything  back  as  it 
was  at  first. 

Then  the  sluggard  came.  He  rapped 
at  the  door,  and  said,  "  I  have  been  sent 
to  the  ant,  to  watch  his  antics.  Are  you 
willing  I  should  watch  you  ?  " 

Myra  smiled  sweetly.  "  I  am  willing. 
I  will  clean  the  hotase  again." 

And  she  did. 


II 

Little  Tippie  Ant  was  tip  early.  She 
had  rested  so  well,  her  feet  were  not  at 
all  curly.  It  was  a  busy  morning  for 


Tippie ;  she  must  dust  and  clean  the  three 
best  rooms,  prepare  the  dinner,  and  carry 
three  hundred  and  fifty-seven  loads  of 
sand  up  eleven  pairs  of  stairs,  all  be- 
fore noon.  But  she  could  do  it,  and  she 
did. 

Miss  Myra  Ant  was  busy,  too.  Com- 
pany was  coming — her  three  aunts  on 
her  mother's  side.  She  must  go  for  them. 
They  lived  in  another  ant-hill  house,  nine 
rods  away. 

They  could  have  walked  easily  in  ten 
minutes,  but  Myra  dear  thought  it  much 
nicer  to  go  for  them  in  the  coach.  This 
was  a  peanut  -  shell.  Mr.  Grasshopper 
was  the  horse.  He  was  very  frisky  and 
jumped  this  way  and  that  way.  Myra 
was  very  proud  of  her  driving,  and  tried 
to  keep  her  steed  in  the  nice  straight 
road.  But  when  she  arrived  at  her  aunts' 
she  looked  behind,  and  the  track  looked 
like  the  mark  in  the  picture. 

"I  know,"  said  Myra  to  herself,  "I 
could  do  better  if  I  had  a  horse  without 
jumps ;  this  one  means  well,  but  he's  green, 
oh,  so  green !  " 

Aunt  Annie  Ant  was  ready,  waiting. 
Aunt  Fanny  Ant  was  nearly  ready,  Aunt 
Hannah  Ant  was  not  ready  at  all. 

Said  Aunt  Annie  Ant,  "  Is  that  a  safe 
horse?  He  looks  bony." 

"  He  brought  rne  here  safely,"  said 
Myra,  "  in  two  hours." 

"  Oh !  "  said  Aunt  Fanny  Ant,  "  he  must 
be  gentle.  Slow  and  sure  is  the  kind  I 
like." 

They  were  soon  seated  in  the  coach, 
and  were  off.  'Twas  a  nice  ride.  At 
every  corner  all  the  Aunt  Ants  braced 
their  feet,  held  their  breaths,  shut  their 
eyes,  and  waited  for  the  jump,  and  the 
bump.  There  were  ninety -one  corners. 
At  the  ninety -first,  Mr.  Grasshopper 
horse  gave  tb->  biggest  jump,  the  coach 


upset,  and  they  were  all  spilled  right  into 
the  front  hall. 

What  a  fine  time  they  had!  They 
went  into  all  the  rooms,  up  and  down  the 
stairs,  opened  all  the  closets,  went  here 
and  there  and  everywhere,  and  looked  in 
here  and  peeped  in  there.  All  too  soon, 
Tippie  said : 

"Dinner!!!!!" 

Ill 

It  was  a  fine  day  for  the  picnic — the 
sugar  picnic.  This  was  a  special  Antic, 
planned  by  Miss  Myra  Ant  in  honor  of 
her  three  Aunt  Ants. 

How  pleased  they  were,  and  excited, 
too!  How  many  times  they  ran  up  and 
down  stairs — forty-one  at  least,  getting 
ready.  Aunt  Hannah  Ant  was  last;  she 
was  always  that,  she  was  older  and  big- 
ger and  not  quite  so  spry  as  the  others. 

But  they  were  all  kind  to  her  and 
waited,  although  it  was  pretty  hard  for 
ants  to  wait.  At  last  they  started,  each 
carrying  a  large  pail  made  of  a  beggar- 
tick  seed.  "  If  we  drop  the  pails,"  said 
Myra,  "  they  will  stick  to  us." 

They  traveled  along  beams,  knot-hole 
tunnels,  around  a  chimney,  under  some 
carpets,  over  some  dishes,  up  the  slender 
legs  of  a  table,  to  the  very  top. 

There  was  the  sugar!  They  all 
plunged  into  it  and  ate  of  it;  they  smiled 
at  it,  and  rolled  on  it.  They  danced  and 
pranced,  they  frisked  and  they  whisked, 
they  skipped  and  they  tipped. 

"  How  do  you  like  it  ?  "  said  Myra. 

"  It's  tip-top,"  said  the  Auntie  Ants. 

Said  Tippie,  "I  think  it's  Tippie-top, 
too." 

Scoop ! ! !  Something  happened !  They 
were  all  suddenly  lifted  with  a  heap  of 
the  sugar  and  dashed  into  a  great  yellow 
cavern. 


•'  I  know  what's  the  matter,"  cried  Tip- 
pie.  "  Follow  me,  quick,  quick!  "  Tippie 
ran,  they  all  ran,  quick  as  a  wink. 

When  they  were  safe  at  home,  seated 
in  the  most  comfortable  chairs,  fanning 
themselves,  Myra  said,  "Now,  Tippie, 
explain.'- 

"  I  will,"  jaid  Tippie.  "  We  were  all 
scooped,  by  something  called  a  lady.  The 
yellow  cavern  was  a  dish.  If  we  had  not 
run,  we  should  now  be  baked  in  a  cake. 
My  grandmother,  great,  great,  great, 
great  came  very  near  to  being  baked." 

"  I  have  heard,"  said  Myra,  "  that  those 
terrible  beings  called  people  have  picnics, 
too.  Our  beautiful  picnic  was  spoiled  by 
one  of  them.  I  wonder  how  they  would 
like  to  be  scooped  through  the  air  and 
landed,  they  know  not  where !  " 

Said  Tippie: 

"They  have  just  such  troubles, 
With   auto-mo-bubbles ! " 


IV 

Tippie  went  to  drive  home  the  cows. 
There  were  seventy-seven,  each  of  a  beau- 
tiful green  color,  and  each  named  Aphis. 
The  pasture  was  in  a  rose-bush,  but  Tip- 
pie  could  not  get  them  all,  for  some  had 
wings  and  flew  away.  Instead  of  milk, 
they  gave  honey.  Ant  cows  are  made  that 
way.  It  is  the  best  way  for  the  ants. 

Tippie  brought  in  the  nice,  fresh,  foam- 
ing, warm  honey-milk  and  the  Aunt  Ants 
each  had  a  glass  before  going  to  bed. 
Aunt  Hannah  Ant  had  two. 

Myra  could  not  eat,  she  was  too  busy. 
She  was  trying  to  learn  to  be  a  butterfly. 
She  had  the  Cyclopedia  Bright-Antic-a. 
This  told  all  about  butter.  Also  all  about 
flies.  Myra  made  notes,  as  follows: 
"  Butter,  something  made  from  milk.  Fly, 
tn  insect" 


"Now,"  said  Myra,  "I  am  an  insect 
myself,  and  have  plenty  of  Aphis  milk; 
the  question  is,  how  much  of  each  to 
mix."  It  was  a  hard  problem.  Myra 
added  long  columns  of  figures,  then  sub- 
tracted them,  and  multiplied  them,  and 
divided  them  by  every  number  she  could 
think  of,  but  the  answer  would  not  come. 
She  worked  all  night. 

Morning  came,  as  usual;  the  sun  arose; 
the  cows  were  milked;  the  Aunt  Ants 
were  up;  Tippie  had  breakfast;  still  Myra 


AUNT  HANNAH  ANT 


worked ;  she  was  trying  decimal  fractions 
now. 

Breakfast  was  served,  the  Aunt  Ants 
ate,  Tippie  ate,  too.  Dinner  passed,  tea- 
time  came,  and  Myra  was  still  at  her 
problem.  Myra  called  her  Aunt  Ants  to 
her,  and  addressed  them  thus : 

"If  I  could  flutter,  then  I  might  fly. 
If  I  were  butter,  then  I  might  try  to  be  a 
butter-fly.  Or,  in  other  words,  if  butter 
could  butter,  I  might  try  to  fly." 

Then  something  happened  to  Myra. 
She  did  not  fly,  she  swooued.  aad  no  won- 


der!  She  had  worked  too  many  hours 
without  rest  or  food.  They  put  her  to 
bed.  Aunt  Annie  Ant  warmed  her  feet, 
and  Aunt  Hannah  Ant  stood  around  and 
said,  "  Do  this,  do  that." 

Myra  was  well  again  next  day,  and  her 
Aunts  gave  her  some  advice.  Said  Aunt 
Annie  Ant,  "  It  is  better  to  have  a  sensible 
ambition  than  a  foolish  one.  If  you 
should  study  until  you  were  black  in  the 
face  (you  are  almost  that  now),  you  could 
iv1  ver  fly." 

Said  Aunt  Fanny  Aunt,  "You  must 
never  get  so  interested  in  study  that  you 
forget  to  eat  and  sleep.  Creatures  called 
boys  and  girls  never  do." 

Said  Aunt  Hannah  Ant,  "  Take  my  ad- 
vice, and  just  be  nice," 

Then  Tippie  came  in,  and  said, 
"  There's  an  agent  here  with  a  new  book." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Myra. 

"  The  Perfect  Ant/  "  said  Tippie. 

"  I  will  buy  a  copy  and  study  it ! "  ex- 
claimed Myra. 

She  did. 


It  was  a  beautiful  harvest  moon.  Myra 
thought  so;  the  Aunt  Ants  thought  so, 
and  Tippie  also  thought  so,  too.  The  sky 
was  robin's-egg  blue.  The  grass  was  em- 
erald hue,  and  fresh  with  sparkling  dew. 
Everything  looked  new,  while  every 
flower  tiiat  grew,  and  every  bird  that  flew, 
and  every  wind  that  blew,  sang  of  the 
good  and  true. 

The  Aunt  Ants  said  they  must  go  to 
their  own  home  to-day  because  winter 
would  come  soon. 

"  I  wish  you  would  stay  with  me  all 
winter,"  said  Myra. 

All  three  said  they  would,  so  that  was 
settlr' 


"  Now  we  must  get  our  harvest  home,** 
said  Myra,  "  and  you  must  all  help."  They 
worked  hard,  bringing  grains  and  fruits 
from  the  fields,  and  filling  pantries,  closets, 
and  cellars. 

Upstairs  and  down  they  went,  out  and 
in  the  door,  rushing  here  and  rushing  there, 
carrying  heavy  loads,  hurry-hurry,  scurry- 
scurry,  up  and  down,  in  and  out,  over  and 
under,  and  around  about. 

By  set  of  sun  their  work  was  done. 

"  Now,  when  winter  comes,"  said  Myra, 
"  we  will  have  plenty ;  if  we  empty  all  the 
store-rooms,  we  can  eat  the  furniture  in 
the  dining-room."  True !  For  the  dining- 
table  was  a  dried  mushroom,  the  chairs 
were  wheat  kernels,  the  sideboard  a 
cracked  nut,  and  the  dishes  which  they 
called  cut-glass  were  really  grains  of 
sugar. 

"But,"  said  Aunt  Hannah,  as  she 
toasted  her  feet  by  the  blazing  fire,  "  why 
did  Tippie  fill  the  seventh  drawer  of  the 
ninth  bureau  in  the  third  closet  from 
the  corner  of  the  hall,  with  prickly 
nettles?" 

"  We  may  need  them,"  said  Myra. 

It  happened  next  day,  at  forty-three 
minutes  and  nineteen  seconds  past  thirteen 
o'clock,  thus  wise: 

The  ant-eater  came.  He  put  his  tongue 
right  through  the  front  door  and  licked  all 
the  pictures  off  of  the  wall  of  the  hall.  He 
was  gigantic.  The  Ants  of  Antic  were 
frantic. 

That  awful  tongue  came  again.  This 
time  it  took  all  the  furniture  in  the  hall, 
and  the  little  twisty,  twirly  end  went  into 
the  sitting  room  and  caught  Aunt  Han- 
nah by  the  hair.  But  that  was  really 
lucky,  for  Aunt  Hannah's  hair  was  a  wig. 
It  came  off. 

"  Dear  Aunt  Hannah,  your  wig  is  gone, 
but  I  am  so  glad  you  are  left,"  said  Myra. 


PI  must  do  something."    Suddenly  she 
did. 

She  went  to  the  third  closet  from  the 
corner  of  the  hall,  opened  the  door,  went 
in,  counted  the  ninth  bureau  from  the  left, 
opened  the  seventh  drawer  from  the  bot- 
tom, took  out  the  prickly  nettles,  and  threw 
them  all  over  the  hall. 


Just  in  time,  too.  The  ant-eater's 
tongue  came  for  the  third  time.  It  took  all 
the  nettles.  It  never  came  any  more. 

But  winter  came !  The  Aunt  Ants  lived 
with  Myra  till  spring.  When  they  went 
home,  they  tipped  Myra  well.  They 
tipped  Tippie,  too. 

Through ! !  I 


MCD-TUBTLK'I  SATE  AND  «LECT  IWIMMWG  root 


LELIA  AND  LULIA  LOBSTER 


By  JOSHUA   F.  CROWELL 


ELIA  and  Lulia  went  to  school 
the  sea-weed  room  of  the 


salt  sea  pool.  Mr.  Bobster 
Lobster  was  the  teacher.  He 
stood  on  a  big  flat  stone  and  taught  them 
the  song  of  the  sad  sea  moan.  After  that, 
the  lessons  came.  Lelia  and  Lulia  were 
in  the  first  grade  in  color.  The  first  day, 
they  learned  one  color.  Each  one  of  the 
class  had  to  think  of  something  green  and 
make  a  complete  statement. 

Said  Cilli-Billi,  "  The  sea  is  green." 


of  it.  He  clacked  the  jaw  at  the  end  of 
his  claw  and  Lulia  was  the  most  fright- 
ened little  lobster  you  ever  saw.  She 
cried  real  wet,  salt  tears  all  the  way  from 
school,  but  when  she  reached  home,  her 
mother  reprovingly  said,  "  It  is  foolish, 
my  dear,  to  cry,  for  the  ocean  is  full  of 
the  very  wettest,  saltest  tears,  and  yours 
are  useless.  If  you  must  cry,  go  up  on 
the  dry  land  and  water  the  parched  vege- 
tation." 
Then  the  mother  served  each  of  her 


Said  Lelia,  "  I'm  green." 

Then  Lulia's  turn  came,  but  she  could 
not  think  of  anything  green,  so  she  waved 
her  eyes  in  their  handles  from  side  to 
side;  but  she  was  so  confused  to  have 
them  all  staring  at  her,  she  could  not  see 
anything  except  the  teacher.  So  she  said 
timidly,  "Mr.  Bobster  Lobster  is 
gr-r-e-en." 

He  was,  but  he  didn't  like  to  be  told 


little  daughters  with  a  pearly  shell  plate 
full  of  delicious  duke,  and  Lulia  was 
soon  as  happy  as  Lelia. 

The  next  day  at  school,  they  learned 
another  color.  "  Red,"  said  Mr.  Bobster, 
"  is  the  dread  color.  You  may  not  under- 
stand it  now,  but  it  always  comes  to  you 
after  you  are  boiled.  My  advice  is,  to 
shun  red." 

Lelia  and  Lulia  attended  school  every 


day  and  they  soon  learned  everything 
that  lobsters  should.  They  practised 
sea-weed  and  rock  hiding,  claw  and  tail 
swimming;  they  grew  skilled  in  water 
flitting  and  mud  sitting;  they  learned  the 
art  of  crawling  without  sprawling,  and 
trawling  without  falling. 

One  day,  when  they  were  quite  big 
and  strong,  they  took  a  long,  long  crawl 
from  their  home,  out — out — into  the 
deep,  deep  sea.  They  passed  thro'  many 
sea-weed  fields  and  under  the  shadow  of 
some  mighty  rocks.  They  admired  the 
lovely  gardens  of  delicately  colored  sea- 
anemones,  and,  at  every  step,  they  took 
in  good  long  breaths  of  the  nice  fresh — 
(I  mean  salt) — water. 

They  had  a  beautiful  walk  and  were 
just  on  the  point  of  turning  back  toward 
home,  when  they  espied  a  new  and 
strange  obiect  made  of  laths  and  netting. 

"  It  looks,"  said  Lelia,  "  like  a  new  kind 
of  home." 

It  was  the  lobster  pot,  although  they 
knew  it  not.  Then  they  both  smelled  the 
delicious  odor  of  a  well-prepared  lunch. 

"  Let  us  go  in,"  said  Lulia,  "  the  door 
is  invitingly  open." 

They  went  in  and  ate  the  lunch. 

Then, — they  could  not  find  the  way 
out.  They  searched  everywhere  for  an 
opening,  but  bars  of  wood  seemed  to  be 
on  every  side. 


"  How  we  got  in,"  said  Lelia,  *  seems 
like  magic." 

"  Not  to  get  out,"  cried  Lulia,  "  is  de- 
cidedly tragic." 

Day  went,  night  came;  then  at  last 
night  changed  to  dawn,  and  still  the  two 
little  lobsters  tugged  at  the  bars,  and 
found  no  way  out.  When  the  sun  was 
up  they  heard  the  noise  of  oars  over  their 
heads,  and  the  shadow  of  a  ^reat  boat 
surrounded  them. 

"  Perhaps,"  Lelia  said, 
"It's  the  fisherman  dread, 
Who'll  boil  us  red." 

"  We're  slowly  rising  up,  I  fear," 

Said  Lulia,  "  Good-bye,  sister  dear, 

I  think  the  end  is  very  near." 

But  the  fisherman,  when  he  had  raised 
the  lobster  pot  to  the  boat  and  opened  it, 
looked  disgusted.  "  Two,  and  both  too 
short."  So  saying,  he  took  Lelia  and 
Lulia  and  dropped  them  back  into  the  sea. 

How  glad  they  were  to  be  free  again! 

On  their  way  home,  they  met  Gilli- 
Billi  and  told  him  their  story. 

"  Well !  well !  "  said  Gilli-Billi,  "  I  see 
now  that  it  is  better  for  a  lobster  to  be 
short,  for,  if  you  are  not  short,  you  are 
sure  to  be-long  to  the  fisherman.  You 
are  lucky  girls,  I  think,  for  if  the  fisher- 
man was  short  of  lobsters,  he  would  not 
be  long  in  taking  you, — short  or  long." 

That's  the  long  and  the  short  of  itf 


WHEN  I   WAS  A  SQUANTUM   WAGON 

TOLD  BY  UNCLE  MORRIS  CHAIR  TO  CHARLOTTE  FLACK 


DO   you   know   what   a   squantum 
wagon  is?     Maybe  you  do,  if 
you   have   ever   been   to   Nan- 
tucket.      /  didn't  know  until  I 
heard  the  mother  telling  the  children  about 
going  on  a  "  squantum  "  in  a  "  squantum 
wagon,"  when  she  was  visiting  at  Nan- 
tucket  Island. 

They  liked  so  much  to  hear  about  it, 
that  the  mother  told  it  over  and  over 
many  times,  until  I  knew  the  story  by 
heart.  When  she  told  it  she  always  sat 
on  my  lap,  you  know,  with  dear  little 
Betty  on  hers,  and  Jack  sat  on  one  of  my 
arms,  while  Marjorie  sat  on  the  other. 

Well,  the  afternoon  she  told  it  for  the 
forty-'leventh  time,  I  thought  what  a  fine 
squantum  wagon  7  would  make,  and  what 
fun  the  youngsters  would  have  playing 
squantum.  Instantly  my  thought  flew  into 
Marjorie's  mind  as  I  meant  it  should,  and 
the  next  minute,  off  my  arm  she  jumped 
exclaiming :  "  Oh  Momsky  dear !  Please 
sit  over  there  in  thr  t  rocking  chair  now,  so 
we  can  have  this  (meaning  me,  you  know) 
for  a  squantum  wagon.  Say,  Jack  and 
Betty  1  Don't  you  think  it  will  be  fun  to 
go  on  a  squantum?" 


Of  course  they  did  think  so,  and  away 
they  hurried  for  their  little  lunch  baskets, 
Marjorie  first  asking  the  mother  if  they 
might  have  truly  things  to  eat. 

The  mother  said  yes,  as  I  knew  she 
would,  for  she  enjoys  their  good  times 
as  much  as  I  do. 

Then  Jack  began  to  do  a  little  planning, 
for  I  heard  him  saying :  "  Now,  Mar- 
jorie, while  you  and  Betty  are  in  the  pan- 
try getting  those  baskets  ready,  I'll  go  and 
hitch  up  Prince  to  the  wagon." 

Soon,  in  he  came  with  his  beloved  rock- 
ing-horse, which  he  hurriedly  placed  in 
front  of  me;  then  over  to  the  mother  he 
ran  and  began  to  whisper  eagerly  to  her, 
his  blue  eyes  big  with  excitement.  When 
she  nodded,  he  gave  her  a  little  bear  hug, 
exclaiming:  "You  are  just  the  bestest 
mother !  "  and  out  he  ran  into  the  hall. 
I  was  just  trying  to  guess  what  all  that 
whispering  was  about,  when  ting-a-ling 
sounded  the  telephone  bell,  and  I  heard 
Jack  calling:  "  Hello :  Is  that  you 
Clarence?  Come  down  and  have  some 
fun!  Will  tell  you  about  it  latei,  Come 
in  front  door,  still  as  a  mouse,  and  hurry  1" 

Who  is  Clarence?     Why,  he  is  their 


cousin  who  lives  just  around  the  comer, 
and  their  little  private  telephone  has  al- 
most as  many  good  times  as  I  have,  I 
guess. 

Well,  when  the  baskets  were  ready  and 
Marjorie  and  Betty  had  put  their  hats  on 
and  had  arranged  their  wraps  over  their 
arms — ("  It's  cool  down  on  the  beach, 
you  know,"  Marjorie  was  saying  in  a 
motherly  way  to  wee  Betty) — they  came 
back  ready  for  their  drive. 

And  there,  looking  solemn  and  sedate, 
sitting  up  very  straight  on  the  driver's 
seat,  was  Clarence  holding  the  reins  and 
trying  hard  not  to  giggle,  while  Jack 
stood  by  the  wagon  politely  waiting  to 
help  the  little  ladies  in. 

But  the  little  ladies  just  stood  still  in 
the  doorway  and  stared  in  surprise,  with 
wide  open  mouths  and  wide  open  eyes. 

The  next  minute  Clarence's  giggle  got 
the  best  of  him  and  suddenly  exploded 
into  a  great  big  ha!  ha!  ha!  and  Jack 
called  out:  "All  aboard  for  South 
Shore ! " 

That  broke  the  spell,  and  across  the 
room  ran  Marjorie  and  Betty,  and  with 
Jack's  assistance  they  climbed  in,  each 
taking  an  arm  for  a  seat,  so  they  sat  fac- 
ing each  other,  as  you  always  do  in  a 
truly  squantum  wagon,  you  know. 

Then  Jack  took  his  seat  beside  Betty, 
and  with  a  jerk  of  the  reins  and  a  duet  of 
"klks,"  away  pranced  Prince  Pony. 

As  they  rode  along,  Jack  explained  to 
Marjorie  how  Clarence  came  to  be  there, 
and  then  Marjorie  informed  Clarence  that 
they  were  on  the  way  to  the  south  shore 
of  Nantucket,  where  they  were  going  to 
have  a  squantum  at  the  Life  Saving  Sta- 
tion. 

"A  squantum!  What  under  the  sun 
is  that?"  asked  Clarence. 

"Why.  it's  a  picnic,"  answered  Jack, 


"  and  I  guess  squantum  is  the  Indianish 
name  for  it." 

Then  Marjorie  and  Jack,  with  now  and 
then  a  word  from  quiet  little  Betty,  told 
Clarence  fragments  of  the  story,  but  before 
it  was  ended  they  decided  their  ride  was 
ended  too.  Then  Jack,  pointing  ahead, 
shouted :  "  Look  1  there's  the  beach,  and 
just  hear  that  old  ocean  roar !  " 

And  then,  what  do  you  think  they 
heard?  A  boom-m-m!  boom-m-m  that 
really  sounded  just  like  the  surf  on  the 
sea  shore.  And  while  the  four  sat  silently, 
looking  at  each  other — Boom-m-m-ml 
boom-m-m-m ! !  boom-m-m-m ! ! !  —  they 
heard  again  louder  and  deeper  than  be- 
fore. Then  they  heard  something  which 
explained  all — big  sister's  hearty  laugh  in 
the  next  room,  for  it  was  she  who  was 
playing  the  deep,  deep,  low  bass  keys  of 
the  piano  to  make  the  sound  of  the  break- 
ers for  them. 

Out  they  all  scrambled  then,  and  after 
tying  Prince  Pony  to  the  table  leg  with 
the  reins,  away  they  scampered  across  the 
beach  (the  hall)  to  the  Life  Saving  Sta- 
tion, which  was  the  play-room. 

"  Now,  it's  time  to  eat ! "  exclaimed 
Jack,  "  and  what  shall  we  have  for  a 
door-table?" 

Marjorie  suggested  the  ironing  board, 
and  I  knew  by  the  sound  that  they  were 
tugging  it  into  the  play-room,  and  guessed 
it  would  be  placed  across  two  chairs  and 
the  contents  of  the  baskets  spread  upon  it. 

Next,  I  heard  Jack  telling  Clarence 
how  the  obliging  crew  of  the  station  had 
taken  off  one  of  the  big  doors  to  use  as  a 
table  that  day,  when  mother  and  all  those 
people  from  town  had  their  squantum 
party  there,  and  how  two  of  the  men 
launched  a  dory  in  the  big  waves  and  went 
out,  way  beyond  the  breakers  and  caught 
some  great  big  bluefish. 


AWAY   PRANCED     PRINCE   PONY. 


"  You  know,"  exclaimed  Marjorie,  "  it  Then  she  went  on  telling  how  the  cook 

was   the  captain's   wife   who   invited   all  made  blnefish  chowder  that  was  served  in 

those  people,  and  that's  how  they  hap-  bowls  of  all  sizes  and  dishes  of  all  kinds, 

pened  to  go  to  the  station,  and  why  the  and  how  the  mother  ate  hers  out  of  a 


Tew  were  so  nice  and  obliging." 


bright  tin  cup,  and  that  never  before  or 


since  had  she  eaten  chowder  so  delicious. 

"  Oh  dear  me !  "  sighed  Betty  longingly, 
"I  wish  we  could  have  some  boo  flish 
showder ! " 

The  others  wished  so,  too,  so  Marjorie 
said :  "  I'll  get  spoons  and  cups  of  milk, 
and  let's  break  up  these  crackers  for  make- 
believe  chowder." 

Pretty  soon  I  heard  a  boy's  voice  ex- 
claiming: "Um-m-m!  this  chowder  is 
just  jim  dandy!" 

Then  another  declaring:  "You're 
right,  it  is !  It's  just  O.  K." 

Then  a  girlish  voice  pronounced  it: 
"simply  elegant." 

Last  of  all  a  dear  little,  sweet  little 
voice  chimed :  "  I  fink  it  is  dust  selicious !  " 

After  the  chowder  was  all  gone,  they 
pretended  their  little  cakes  and  sugar  jum- 
bles were  Nantucket  "  sponge  rounds  " 
and  "  fried  wonders." 

"Now,  let's  go  out  on  the  beach,  and 
pick  up  pudding,"  proposed  Jack,  after 
every  crumb  had  been  eaten. 

"  Pick  up  pudding !  "  said  Clarence  with 
a  laugh,  "  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

I  didn't  wonder  he  laughed,  for  it  did 
sound  quite  funny.  Marjorie  told  him 
Jack  meant  the  white  sea-moss  which  made 
lovely  blanc-mange. 

Then  began  a  great  rattling  around  the 
play-room  floor,  and  I  thought  it  was 
noisy  moss  they  were  finding.  It  sounded 
to  me  like  marbles  and  blocks  and  horse- 
chestnuts, — and  sure  enough!  that's  just 
the  kind  of  moss  I  saw  in  their  baskets, 
when  they  came  scurrying  back  to  the 
wagon  soon  after. 


In  they  climbed,  and  Jack  began  his 
chirruping  to  Prince,  when  Clarence  dis- 
covered something  that  made  him  laugh  so 
very  hard  he  almost  tumbled  out.  He 
couldn't  speak  to  explain,  but  just  pointed 


"I     FINK     IT'S    DUST     SELICIOUS." 

to  the  table  leg.  Oh,  how  tney  all  laughed 
until  I  shook  too;  for  how  could  Prince 
Pony  prance  when  he  was  tied  fast,  and 
how  could  any  one  drive  without  the  reins 
he  was  tied  with! 

Then  with  a  big  shout,  they  all  tumbled 
out,  all  running  away  to  play  something 
else — and  I  was  only  old  Uncle  Morris 
Chair  again. 


THE  CALL  OF  THE 


"  r^OME— Boys— Come! 
Says  the  Big 


Drum. 

There's  a  show  in  town, 
There's  a  funny  clown 
Riding  a  bicycle  up  and  down 
On  the  sunny  street ; 
There  are  thousands  of  feet 
Striking  the  earth  to  the  merry  tune, 
And  the  day  is  fair  and  the  air  like 

June! 

Then  it's  "  Come— Come — Come !  " 
Says  the  Big 

Bass 

Drum. 


"  Come— Boys—Come ! " 
Says  the  Big 

Bass 

Drum. 

There's  a  grand  parade, 

There  is  music  played 

By  men  in  uniforms  gay  arrayed ; 

There  are  ponies  whose  tricks  will  as- 
tonish you, 

There  are  lions  and  tigers  and  elephants, 
too; 

There  are  camels  and  bears  and  funny 
baboons, 

A  caliope  screaming  out  wonderful  tunes 

With  a  "  whee-ee — who-o — whoo-oo  1 " 

While  the  Drum— Calls— You 

With  a  "  Bum— Bum— Bum! " 
And  a  "  Come 

Boys 

Come!" 


"  Come— Boys— Come !  * 
Says  the  Big 

Bass 

Drum. 

With  a  dash  and  a  wheel, 
And  a  spring  in  the  heel, 
And  a  laugh  for  the  rollicking  joys  they 

feel; 

In  a  rabble  and  rout, 
With  a  clatter  and  shout, 
The  children  are  dancing  and  wheeling 

about. 

Oh,  hurry !   Be  quick !   The  clown  is  near, 
The  funniest  joker  you've  seen  in  a  year  1 
See  them  Come — Come — Come 
.To  the  Big 

Bass 

Drum! 

J.  WILEY  OWEN. 


THE 

GINGERBREAD 

BIRD 


I  can 

not    sing, 
I   can   not 
walk,    of     course 
I   can  not 
fly.     You 
don't 
suppose 
that    I    can 
see    with    just 
a  raisin  eye?    But  really  I 
am    better    far,    than    any    bird 
with  wings;  for  I  am  made 
with    sugar    spice,    and   many 
more    good    things.      The 
oven  turned  me  nice  and 
brown,    and    did    the 
work    in    haste,    so 
take  a 
bite 
from 
off 
my 
head 
and  see 
how      crisp 
I'll      taste. 


MAGGIE 

WHEELER 

ROSS 


S>  l^T?  know  1|    0Anc,no-  Scho*f 


THE  WONDERFUL  FLOWER 

By  ROSA  DODILLTE 

Translated  by  Flora  Spiegelbergfrom  the  German 


[ANY,  many  years  ago  there 
lived  in  a  far-off  land  a  young 
and  handsome  king.  He  ruled 
his  kingdom  and  subjects  with 
justice  and  mercy,  and  was  greatly  be- 
loved by  all  his  people.  He  took  a  per- 
sonal interest  in  their  welfare.  Wishing 
to  make  sure  that  his  subjects  were  being 
justly  treated  by  his  officials,  he  had  the 
curious  habit  of  going  unaccompanied 
among  them,  wearing  a  different  disguise 
each  time. 

On  one  of  the  occasions  he  happened 
to  select  a  street  which  led  to  the  out- 
skirts of  the  city,  where  the  poor  people 
lived.  Quite  at  the  end  of  this  street  stood 
a  small  tumble-down  hut,  but  it  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  pretty  little  garden.  A 
strange  looking  flower  of  rare  beauty  and 
coloring  was  growing  in  a  carefully  culti- 
vated bed  in  the  middle  of  this  garden. 

Curious  to  know  the  owner  of  this 
flower,  he  promptly  knocked  at  the  gar- 
den gate,  and  for  a  pretext  begged  the  old 
woman  who  answered  his  call  to  give  him 
a  glass  of  water.  A  beautiful  young 
girl  sat  at  the  window  busily  working  at 
a  piece  of  tapestry.  The  king  stared  at 
her  in  amazement;  never  before  had  he 
seen  such  lovely  golden  hair  nor  such  a 
sweet,  pretty  face- 

The  king  excused  his  intrusion  by  say- 
ing it  was  all  due  to  his  great  admiration 
of  the  rare  and  beautiful  flower  grow- 
ing in  the  garden.  He  inquired  of  the 
young  girl  if  she  were  the  owner  of  the 
flower  and  if  she  were  willing  to  sell  it 
for  a  very  large  sum. 


"  There  is  a  strange  history  attached  to 
this  flower,"  she  said  timidly.  "  I  woulif 
not  part  with  it  for  any  price." 

The  amiable  and  charming  manners  of 
the  young  king  soon  gained  for  him  the 
confidence  of  the  two  women,  and  from 
the  pretty  maiden  he  learned  the  follow- 
ing pitiful  tale: 

"  This  is  not  my  country,"  said  the 
young  girl.  "  I  came  from  a  distant  land 
where  my  father,  the  king,  ruled  over  a 
great  kingdom,  and  I  am  his  only  daugh- 
ter. During  the  long  and  unjust  wars 
waged  against  him,  his  land  was  ruined. 
My  father  and  his  good  wife,  my  mother, 
were  taken  prisoners  and  killed  by  their 
enemies.  It  was  really  a  miracle  that  I 
was  able  to  escape  unobserved  with  my 
faithful  nurse.  As  last,  after  long  and 
weary  wanderings  and  many  privations, 
we  found  a  home  and  protection  with  the 
good  people  who  owned  this  humble  little 
hut.  I  am  very  sorry  to  say  that  they 
died  some  time  ago.  Nobody  here  knows 
that  I  am  the  daughter  of  a  king. 

"  While  fleeing  for  our  lives  from  my 
father's  enemies,  through  a  dark  and 
dense  forest,  I  was  nearly  exhausted  with 
fatigue  and  hunger,  and  begged  my  de- 
voted nurse  to  let  me  rest  for  a  little 
while.  I  had  hardly  fallen  asleep  when 
I  was  awakened  by  a  peculiar  noise  which 
sounded  like  the  moaning  of  a  sick  per- 
son. Terribly  startled  I  jumped  up  quick- 
ly and  called  loudly  for  my  nurse  Marion, 
but  received  no  answer.  Then  finding 
myself  alone  in  the  dense  woods  I  became 
very  frightened,  so  I  folded  my  hands  just 


A    BEAUTIFUL    YOUNG    GIRL    IAT   WORKING    AT   A    PIECE    OF   TATISTKY 


as  my  beloved  mother  had  taught  me 
when  I  was  a  little  girl,  and  prayed  to  God 
for  protection. 

"Again  in  a  little  while  I  heard  the 
same  moaning  and  groaning,  but  this  time 
I  took  courage  and  went  directly  to  the 
spot  where  I  heard  the  cries.  There  to  my 
great  surprise  I  found  a  very  old  woman 
lying  on  the  ground  and  wailing  bitterly. 
She  had  fallen  with  her  heavy  load  of 
firewood  and  could  not  rise  again  to  her 
feet.  I  quickly  took  her  burden  from  her 
back  and  refreshed  her  with  a  cool  drink 
of  water.  Then  I  helped  her  to  her  feet 
again  and  she  begged  me  to  accompany 
her  the  short  distance  to  her  little  hut  in 
the  woods.  I  put  her  heavy  load  of  fire- 
wood on  my  back  and  led  the  good  old 
woman  back  to  her  humble  little  home. 

"  As  I  was  about  to  leave  this  good  old 
woman,  she  thanked  me  heartily  for  the 
valuable  services  I  had  rendered  her,  and 
then  handed  me  a  few  flower  seeds  from 
a  peculiar  box,  with  the  following  instruc- 
tions: 'Take  good  care  of  these  appar- 
ently simple  little  brown  seeds  and  plant 
them  in  a  garden  when  you  are  eighteen 
years  old.  A  very  rare  and  beautiful 
flower  will  grow  from  them  and  through 
this  flower  you  will  find  good  luck  and 
happiness.'  I  thanked  her  and  hastened 
back  to  our  resting  place  in  the  woods, 
where  I  found  my  good  nurse  almost  be- 
side herself  with  excitement  and  despair 
over  my  sudden  disappearance. 

"  Many  years  have  passed  since  then ; 
only  a  few  days  ago,  on  my  eighteenth 
birthday,  I  happened  to  remember  the  in- 
structions of  the  little  old  woman  I  had 
met  in  the  woods.  Immediately  I  planted 
the  seeds,  and  behold,  from  them  grew 
this  magnificent  flower." 


The  young  king  looked  for  a  few  min- 
utes admiringly  at  the  pretty  maiden,  and 
then  said  to  her: 

"Lovely  princess,  this  story  of  your 
great  suffering  and  misfortune  has  af- 
fected me  strangely.  I  pray  you  leave  this 
simple  little  hut,  with  its  ill-suited  sur- 
roundings, and  follow  me  to  my  house. 
Be  assured  I  mean  it  well  with  you.  I 
am  richer  and  of  more  noble  birth  than 
you  may  imagine.  I  will  gladly  fulfill 
every  wish  of  yours." 

"Thank  you  for  your  kindness,"  she 
modestly  replied,  "  but  I  will  never  leave 
my  faithful  nurse  Marion.  She  has  al- 
ways been  like  a  second  mother  to  me, 
and  next  to  God  I  owe  my  life  to  her." 

"  Far  be  it  from  me  to  wish  to  separate 
you  from  her,"  said  the  king.  "I  also 
despise  ungratefulness." 

After  some  hesitation  the  princess 
granted  his  request  to  call  for  her  and 
Marion  within  a  fortnight.  Then  the  king 
bade  her  farewell,  and  returned  home  de- 
lighted and  happy  that  he  had  obtained 
the  maiden's  promise  to  accept  his  invita- 
tion. 

Only  after  their  arrival  at  the  palace 
did  they  become  aware  of  the  high  and 
noble  position  occupied  by  their  protector 
and  benefactor.  At  last  the  prophecy  of 
the  grateful  little  old  woman  of  the  woods 
had  been  fulfilled.  The  rare  and  beauti- 
ful flower  called  "Gratefulness"  had 
bloomed  at  the  right  time  and  had  brought 
the  king's  daughter  good  luck  and  hap- 
piness. 

Soon  afterwards  the  young  king  chose 
the  beautiful  maiden  to  be  his  wife.  He 
celebrated  their  marriage  with  great  pomp 
and  splendor,  and  all  his  subjects  joy- 
fullv  claimed  her  as  their  queen. 


MILKING    TIME. 


THE  TOWN  OF  HAVEYOUROWNWAY 


By  JENNIE   M.  DAY 


]ID  you  ever  hear  of  the  town  of 
Haveyourownway ?  No?  Then 
you  must  let  me  tell  you  about 
it,  for  I  do  not  believe  there  is 
a  little  girl  or  boy  in  the  whole  country 
who  would  not  like  to  live  there.  I  was 
never  there  myself,  but  I  know  a  little 
girl  who  was,  and  she  is  the  one  who  told 
me.  We  will  call  her  Joyful. 

Well,  one  Saturday  morning  Joyful's 
mamma  said  to  her : 

"  My  dear,  you  have  been  a  very  good 
girl  this  week,  both  at  home  and  at 
'school,  and  as  a  reward  you  may  have 
a  real  holiday  to-day.  You  may  go 
where  you  want  to  and  do  what  you 
please." 

Wasn't  that  fine?  Joyful  certainly 
thought  it  was,  and  she  was  so  pleased 
that  she  jumped  up  and  down  and 
-laughed  with  all  her  might.  Then  she 
ran  for  her  sunbonnet,  kissed  her  mother 
good-by,  and  went  out  under  the  big  oak 
to  think. 

It  did  not  take  her  long  to  decide  what 
to  do,  for  there  was  the  south  meadow 
way  over  beyond  the  apple  orchard, 
where  she  had  never  been  allowed  to  go. 
She  picked  a  white  dandelion  and  blew 
three  times  and  when  some  of  the  fuzzy 
seeds  stayed  she  laughed  aloud,  because 
she  knew  very  well  that  her  mamma  did 
not  want  her.  It  was  a  longer  walk  than 
she  had  supposed,  and  when  she  had 
climbed  the  last  fence  and  waded  for  a 
time  in  the  deep  grass,  she  found  she  was 
very  tired. 

Presently,  Joyful  discovered  a  musical 
little  brook  with  trees  sheltering  it  on 
either  side  and  flowers  nestling  along  its 
banks.  She  threw  herself  under  one  of 


the  trees  with  a  deep  sigh  of  content 
She  loved  to  watch  the  flowers  nodding 
in  the  gentle  breeze.  After  she  had 
looked  at  them  very  quietly  for  a  time  a 
strange  spell  came  over  her  and  she  could 
see  things  that  she  had  never  seen  before. 
She  found  herself  quite  surrounded  by 
daisies,  great  white  ones,  and  they  were 
actually  nodding  their  heads  at  her  and 
saying,  "  Good-morning !  " 

At  first  she  was  too  much  surprised  to 
answer,  but  in  a  minute  she  remembered 
her  manners  and  answered  very  politely: 
"  Good-morning,  daisies." 

Then  they  all  laughed  in  such  a  merry 
way  that  she  was  surprised  still  more;  so 
she  turned  to  a  large,  beautiful  one  that 
was  quite  near  her  and  said :  "  Won't  you 
please  tell  me  what  the  daisies  are  laugh- 
ing about  ? " 

"Yes,  of  course,  I  will  tell  you,"  said 
the  large  daisy  very  sweetly.  "  We  were 
laughing  because  you  called  us  by  the 
wrong  name.  Our  real  name  is  day's 
eye." 

"Oh,  is  it?"  said  Joyful  innocently. 
"  I  never  heard  you  called  that." 

"  I  will  explain  it  to  you,"  said  the  lit- 
tle president  (for  she  -was  the  president 
of  the  daisies,  just  as  Joyful  had  been 
thinking).  "Our  real  name  is  day's-eye, 
because  we  are  the  children  of  the  sun. 
Of  course,  you  know  it  is  the  sun  that 
shines  in  your  eyes  and  wakes  you  in  the 
morning." 

"  Oh,  yes,  indeed,"  said  Joyful  eagerly. 

"  And  perhaps  you  know  how  hard  it  is 
to  get  your  eyes  open  on  cloudy  morn- 
ings?" 

"Yes,  I  know  that,  too,"  saii  Joyful, 
smiling. 


"But  here  is  something  you  do  not  cloudy  mornings,  if  you  only  ask  them, 

know,"  said  the  president  with  an  air  When  your  mother  calls  you  and  you  are 

of  great  secrecy.     "  The  day's-eyes  will  so  sleepy  you  would  give  anything  if  she 

make  you  wide  awake  in  a  twinkling  on  would  only  keep  still,  you  must  think— > 


WXRS   ACTUALLY    NODDING  THMB    HKAJM   AT   HEX  AND   SAYING,   "  GOOD- MORNING  I* 


you  tion't  need  to  say  it  aloud  unless  you 
want  to: 

"  Day's-cye  bright,  bring  the  light : 
Bring  the  light,  day's-eye  bright." 

Joyful  repeated  this  again  and  again. 

"  That  is  right,"  said  the  president  en- 
couragingly. "  Now,  there  is  just  one 
other  thing  you  must  remember.  If  your 
eyes  do  not  fly  wide  open  after  you  have 
said  it  once,  you  must  say  it  over  and 
over  until  they  do  fly  open;  and  you  may 
be  sure — oh,  very  sure — that  they  will  be 
very  wide  open  as  soon  as  you  make  the 
day's-eye  hear." 

Joyful  thought  this  was  very  wonder- 
ful indeed,  and  said :  "  Thank  you,  thank 
you,  thank  you,"  over  and  over  again. 

Then  she  remembered  how  very  hard 
it  was  sometimes  to  get  out  of  bed,  even 
when  she  was  wide  awake.  She  won- 
dered if  the  daisy  president  could  make 
any  suggestions  on  this  point,  and  turned 
to  ask  her,  when — what  do  you  think? 
The  daisies  had  all  disappeared  and  in 
their  places  were  ever  so  many  johnny- 
jump-ups. 

Joyful  was  not  so  very  much  surprised 
this  time,  for  she  began  to  realize  that 
she  was  in  a  strange  country;  so  she 
turned  to  one  of  the  johnnies  and  said : 

"  What  shall  I  do  when  I  want  to  get 
out  of  bed,  and  yet  don't  want  to  get 
out?" 

The  johnny  gave  his  hood  a  queer  lit- 
tle twist  and  said : 

"Why,  that  is  easy  enough.  My 
brothers  and  I  can  help  you  out  any  time. 
All  you  have  to  do  is  to  say,  *  Johnny,' 
and  straighten  your  body  out  like  our 
stems ;  then  say  '  Jump '  and  sit  up  in  bed ; 
then  say  'Up,'  and  throw  your  feet  out 
on  the  floor,  and  then  it's  the  easiest  thing 
in  the  world  to  stand  up  straight;  and 


there  you  are,  out  of  tied  Eefore  jod 
know  it!" 

"Well,  I  declare,"  said  Joyfu.,  "isn't 
that  easy!  I'm  sure  I'm  very  much 
obliged  to  you,  johnny-jump-up." 

Then  he  and  all  the  other  johnnies 
jumped  right  out  of  sight. 

Then  Joyful  began  to  think.  "Oh, 
how  I  hate  to  dress  in  the  morning!  I 
just  wish  some  darling  flower  would  do 
it  for  me." 

Then  she  heard  a  chorus  of  sweet 
voices,  and  looking  around,  what  do  you 
think  she  saw  ?  Why,  a  whole  bed  of  the 
whitest,  whitest  lilies  that  ever  were. 

"  Oh,  you  dear  lilies,  how  do  you  do?" 
cried  Joyful.  "  Did  you  come  to  help  me 
dress  to-morrow  morning?"  for  she  be- 
gan to  see  that  this  was  a  country  where 
her  wishes  came  true. 

"Yes,  we  did,"  said  all  the  lilies  at 
once.  "  You  must  do  three  things,  one 
for  each  of  our  white  petals.  First,  you 
must  take  hold  of  your  clothes;  second, 
you  must  put  them  on;  and,  third,  you 
must  button  them  up.  All  the  time  you 
must  keep  singing: 

'Lilies  dear, 
Hasten  here; 
Lilies  white, 
Dress  me  right; 
Lilies  sweet, 
Make  me  neat/ 

and  there  you  are,  all  dressed ! " 

Joyful  was  so  busy  singing  the  verses 
that  she  almost  forgot  to  say  "Thank 
you,"  and  when  she  did  say  it,  the  chorus 
answered  her  from  way  off  somewhere: 
"  Oh,  you're  welcome,"  and  there  was  not 
a  lily  to  be  seen. 

"Well,   I  declare,"  said  Joyful   wist- 
fully, "now  I  wonder  who  is  going  to 
help  me  wash  and  comb  my  hair/' 
"  Why,  we  are,  to  be  sure.'* 


She  looked  around,  but  there  was  not 

flower  in  sight 

"  Look  down  at  your  feet." 

And  there  was  the  brook,  wrinkling  it- 
self over  the  stones  as  hard  as  it  could 
to  attract  attention. 

"  Will  you  help  me  wash,  dear  brook?" 
asked  the  child. 

"  Yes,  indeed.  It  is  very  easy.  When 
you  have  poured*  the  water  in  the  bowl, 
all  you  have  to  do  is  to  dip  your  fingers^ 
in  and  think  how  clean  and  clear  I  am, 
and  the  next  thing— there  yoti  are,  all 
washed!" 

"My,  but  that's  nice,"  said  Joyful. 
"  And  can  you  comb  my  hair,  too  ?  " 

"No,  we'll  do  that,"  said  some  very 
fine  voices,  and  then  Joyful  saw  the 
ferns  growing  along  the  edge  of  the 
brook.  It  was  very  funny— they  .looked 
so  slender. 

"Excuse  me,"  she  said,  restraining  a 
laugh,.  "  but  how  can  you?  " 

"Why,  it's  the  easiest  of  all,"  said 
they.  "  All  you  have  to  do  is  to  think  of 
us  when  you  take  hold  of  your  comb, 
and  the  next  thing  you  know,  the  snarls 
are  all  out  of  your  hair  and  it  is  braided 
and  tied  with  a  ribbon." 

•"  My,  but  I'm  glad  of  that— very,  very 
glad,"  said  the  little  girl.  "  I'll  think  of 
you  every  morning  of  my  life,"  and  she 
nodded  her  head  gaily  at  the  ferns,  who 
danced  merrily  up  and  down.  Then  the 
brook  swallowed  them  and  in  their 


places  a  whole  family  of  blue  flags  wavedf 
and  nodded. 

"And  what  are  yoit  going  to  do  for 
me?  "  said  Joyful,  smiling. 

"We'll  help  you  all  day  long,"  said 
the  flags. 

"All  day?" 

"  Yes.  This  is  the  town  of  Haveyour- 
ownway,  and  whenever  there  is  anything 
hard  to  do,  all  you  have  to-  do  is  to  want 
4o  do  it,  and  well  help  you' out  You  just 
make-believe  wave  one  of  us  in.  the  air, 
and  you'll  be  surprised  to  find  out  how 
easy  it  is  after  that.  No  one  can  see  us 
but  you,  and  a  make-believe  one  can  never 
wear  out." 

"And  will -you  help  me  <Io  anything?" 

"Yes,  indeed." 

"Well,  then, -J  think  you'd  better  help 
me  get  home  in  a  hurry,  for  I'm  as  hun- 
gry as  two^bears  and  I  think  dinner  must 
be  ready.'** 

So  she  sprang  to  her  feet,  waved  one 
of  ttie<flags  gaily  in  the  air,  and— whiski 
She  wasr  through  -the  deep  grass  again. 
Whisk!  She  was  over  the  fence.  Whisk! 
She  was  through  the  wheat  field. 
Whisk!  She  was  over  another  fence. 
Whisk!  She  was  through  thVapjtfe-  or- 
chard. Whisk!  She  was  thrbugkUnfe 
bars,  and  whisk!  she  was  on  the; porch, 
and  her  papa  was  tossing  her  up  in  the 
air! 

"  My,  but  I've  had  a  good  time! "  «Ud 
Joyful 


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